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(UOTEfEl 



THE 



MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS: 



A BIOGEAPHT. 



BY REV. JOHN KIRK. 



She was an admirable woman, of highly-improved mind, and of a strong 
and masculine understanding; an obedient wife; an exemplary mother; a fer- 
vent Christian.— Southet. 



CINCINNATI: 
PUBLISHED BY POE & HITCHCOCK. 



R. P. THOMPSON, PRINTER. 
1865. 



/Bf 



±7 

TO THE 

REVEREND GEORGE OSBORN, D. D., 

PRESIDENT OF THE METHODIST CONFERENCE, 

THE FOLLOWING CONTRIBUTION 

TO A DEPARTMENT OF WESLEY AN LITERATURE 

IN WHICH HE HAS LONG TAKEN A DEEP INTEREST 

IS MOST RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY 

AS A SLIGHT TRIBUTE TO HIS 
EMINENT TALENTS AND PRIVATE WORTH, 

AND AN 

EXPRESSION OF THE VALUE PLACED UPON HIS FRIENDSHIP. 



PEEFACE 



More than a hundred and twenty years have passed 
away since Susanna Wesley entered into rest. Her 
name has been every-where received with respect, 
and by a large and influential Christian community 
it has been cherished with strongest affection. Her 
success in the education of her children has been 
the theme of universal admiration; and no one- has 
yet ventured to hazard even a conjecture as to how 
much the cause of religion and the wellbeing of the 
human race are indebted, under the Divine blessing, 
to her steady piety and extraordinary talents. The 
numerous biographies of her sons, all the histories 
of Methodism, and a number of periodicals, have 
contained brief, and in some instances very able, 
sketches of her character. But up to this hour no 
volume worthy to be called a memorial of her has 
issued from the press. 

The following pages are an attempt to supply, 

in some small degree, this remarkable deficiency. 

The plan upon which they are written aims to make 

Mrs. Wesley the central figure, around which the 

persons and incidents associated with the narrative 

5 



b PREFACE. 

may be appropriately grouped. The chronological 
order of arrangement has, therefore, been entirely 
disregarded, except where it could be rendered sub- 
servient to the main design. But in order to guide 
the reader to the time to which the leading facts 
should be referred, the proper dates have generally 
been inserted in connection with the most important 
events. 

Had I been disposed to dwell upon the various 
historical facts comprehended in the period of the 
narrative, the work would have been largely increased 
in size. I have, therefore, contented myself with an 
occasional glance at the side-lights of general history, 
and that only when it was absolutely necessary. If, 
however, it should be thought that, here and there, 
"like a purple beech among the greens," there is an 
occasional paragraph which, at first sight, "looks out 
of place," I should not be at all surprised. My only 
hope is that the irrelevant passages may in them- 
selves be worthy of the reader's attention. 

In the preparation of the volume I have sought 
information from every available source, as far as it 
has been known to me. The valuable documents 
contained in Clarke's "Wesley Family," the parish 
registers in the different places where the persons 
connected with the narrative resided, the cotemporary 
literature of the period, and various denominational 
magazines, have all been freely laid under contri- 
bution. Had I wished to crowd the foot of every 
page Avith references to authorities, I have had ample 



PREFACE. 7 

opportunities for so doing. But as they "would have 
been disregarded by the great majority of readers, 
whom I had chiefly in view, such references have 
been introduced but sparingly. I have not, however, 
made any statement of facts without a careful com- 
parison of authorities; and, if necessary, they can 
easily be produced. 

I have also had the advantage of making free use 
of two valuable collections of unpublished documents 
connected with the Wesley family. By this means a 
new light has been thrown upon several important 
incidents connected with family-life at Epworth. To 
George Morley, Esq., of Leeds, and Mr. John Wesley 
of London, I tender my most hearty thanks for the 
generous manner in which they allowed me access 
to these deeply-interesting documents. My warmest 
acknowledgments are also due to Rev. William B. 
Pope, and another friend whose name I must not 
mention, for very valuable aid in the revision of the 
sheets as they passed through the press; to Rev. 
William M. Punshon, A.M., for placing in my hands 
the manuscript of his eloquent lecture on "Wesley 
and His Times ;" to Rev. William Beal for much 
important information ; and to Revs. John P. Lock- 
wood, John Mason, Richard Smailes, and several 
other friends who have in various ways supplied me 
with kindly counsel and help. 

I must now bid farewell to a task which has af- 
forded many hours of pleasant and profitable study. 
Whether this humble memorial of Susanna Wesley 



8 PREFACE. 

shall meet with a favorable reception from the Chris- 
tian community or not, I feel that in its preparation 
I have received the reward of my toil. The words 
of Doctor Clarke, to whose volumes all subsequent 
writers on these topics must be deeply indebted, 
most appropriately express my own emotions: "I 
have traced her life with much pleasure, and received 
from it much instruction; and when I have seen her 
repeatedly grappling with gigantic adversities, I have 
adored the grace of God that was in her, and have 
not been able to repress my tears." 

London, February, 1864. 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. 



We confidently offer this charming book to the 
American reader, expecting that it will meet with as 
hearty a welcome by all lovers of biography in this 
country as it has already received in Great Britain . 
and the Canadas. On its appearance it was at once 
accepted by the Wesleyans as the standard biography 
of the mother of their great founder, and received the 
hearty commendation of the English press. It has 
already passed through several editions in England. 
The history of the family at Epworth is, to a great 
extent, the history of the origin of Methodism. Dr. 
Stevens has well said, "The mother of the Wesleys 
is the mother of Methodism." She was a rare and 
extraordinary woman, possessing a rare combination 
of genuine good sense and fervent religious devotion. 
Much has been done, we are aware, by many his- 
torians and biographers, especially by Dr. Adam 
Clarke, in his "Memoirs of the Wesley Family," 
to give her a worthy eminence; but there is still 

room for the fresh investigations of Mr. Kirk, and 

9 



10 EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

we think the present volume is certainly the most 
beautiful and successful attempt yet made to delineate 
her saintly and true womanly character. 

The work of course brings before us the other 
members of this remarkable family, and one of its 
most touching chapters is that on the sons and 
daughters — a mournful record, indeed, of genius and 
grief, of sorrow and disappointment. Far more in- 
teresting than romance to every sound mind is the 
veritable history of the old Epworth rectory, with 
its ghostly visitants, its sad struggles with poverty, 
its destructive and almost fatal fires, its fears, its 
devotions, its discipline, its genial father, its saintly 
mother, its extraordinary sons, and its gifted daugh- 
ters. Mr. Kirk's volume will be welcomed and read 
by all to whom the character of a model Christian 
wife and mother is a subject of interest. It is a 
delightful biography for all readers, but we especially 
commend it to the wives and mothers of the Church. 

I. W. WILEY. 

Cincinnati, February, 1865. 



CONTENTS. 



I. PARENTAGE. 



PAGE. 

Nobleness of descent 23 

Samuel Annesley's birthplace 24 

Childhood B 25 

Early inclination for the ministry 25 

De Foe's description of his youth 26 

Minister of Cliffe 27 

Preaches before the Commons 28 

Unfortunate passage in the sermon 29 

Political opinions 30 

Forced from Cliffe 31 

Rector of Saint John's 32 

Lecturer at Saint Paul's 32 

Rector of Saint Giles's 33 

The Act of Uniformity 34 

Ejected 35 

Pastor of Little Saint Helen's 35 

Personal appearance 36 

No polemic 36 

Preaching 37 

Liberality 38 

Devoutness 38 

Who was Susanna Wesley's mother? .... 39 

Annesley's first wife . 40 

John Wesley's statement 40 

" The Patriarch of Dorchester " 40 

11 



12 CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

"Century" White 41 

Curious coincidences 42 

Annesley's second marriage 43 

Similarity between mother and daughter . . . .44 

II. GIRLHOOD. 

Born in London . 45 

Residence 46 

Brothers and sisters 47 

Childhood 49 

Education .49 

No classic . . . " : 50 

Domestic training 52 

Reading 54 

Recovered from Socinianism 55 

Renounces Non-Conformity 56 

Personal appearance 59 

Piety 62 

Importance of personal religion 66 

III. FUTURE HUSBAND. 

The Wesley Family 69 

Bartholomew Westley 70 

John Westley 71 

Matthew Westley 75 

Samuel Westley 79 

Time and place of his birth 79 

Educated at Dorchester 79 

Enters Veal's Academy, at Stepney . . . . . 80 
Removes to Morton's, at Stoke Newington . . . .81 

Renounces Dissent 82 

Goes to Oxford .83 

Visits the prisoners 84 

Ordination ' 84 



CONTENTS. 13 

PAGE. 

Did not preach against the " Declaration " . . .85 

Disliked James the Second 86 

The first writer in favor of the Revolution . . . .87 

His " Life of Christ " 88 

IV. MARRIAGE. 

Annesley's house the resort of students . . . .89 

Wesley at Dunton's marriage 89 

Wedding services 90 

London curacy 91 

South Ormsby . 91 

The Marquis's lady 93 

Death of Mrs. Wesley's father 93 

Communion with departed saints ..... 96 
Do the glorified pray for us ? 100 

V. EPWORTH. 

Isle of Axholme 103 

The "low levels" 104 

The drainage . 105 

The town and Church . . . . . . . . 105 

Wesley obtains the living 106 

The parishioners 107 

The parsonage, farm, and stock 108 

The first fire 109 

The second fire 110 

John's marvelous escape Ill 

The family dispersed 113 

Was the fire accidental ? 114 

Brutal conduct of the parishioners 115 

The contested election .116 

Arrest and imprisonment 120 

How Mrs. Wesley bore the trial 122 

The release from prison 123 



14 CONTENTS 

PAGE. 

Awful end of a persecutor 124 

The Parsonage rebuilt 125 

" Old Jeffery " 126 

General sketch of his doings 127 

The Rector hears the noises . 129 

The spirit interrogated 130 

Becomes a source of amusement . . . . . 131 

Suggested solutions of the mystery 132 

" Spirit-Rapping " 133 

Isaac Taylor's solution 134 

Southey's reply to Priestly . . . . . . . 137 

A remarkable fact 138 

The mystery still remains 138 

VI. THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 

Moral condition of the Islanders 139 

Pastoral visitation 140 

Reproof 141 

The sack of corn 142 

The impromptu grace . 143 

The glass of water . . . 144 

Parish matters . 145 

Administration of discipline 146 

Doing penance 147 

Public worship ; the Liturgy 148 

Psalmody . . . 149 

" Like to an owl in ivy bush " 150 

The story discredited 151 

Preaching . . . 153 

Religious instruction of children 155 

Success delayed 156 

General results 157 

A diligent student . 158 

His poetry 159 

Noble missionary scheme . . , 160 



CONTENTS. 15 

PARE. 

Personal character 162 

Religiousness 164 



VII. MODES OF EDUCATION. 

A "numerous offspring" 166 

The early dead 167 

Plans for training the survivors 167 

Sleep . 168 

Food . . . .169 

Crying 170 

Breaking the will 171 

Correction 173 

Parental authority 174 

Recreations 175 

Card-playing 176 

Mrs. Wesley's sentiments on recreations . . . . 177 

Learning to read 178 

Anecdote of Samuel 179 

Order in the school 180 

Education for social life 181 

Religious education 183 

Theological training 185 

Mrs. Wesley as an author 186 

Private conversations 189 

General retirement 191 

Correspondence when they left home ..... 191 

Early commencement 194 

Thorough impartiality 196 

Home-education . . . 197 

Cheered by hopes of the future 198 

The Rector's share in educating the children .... 198 
His concern for their religious welfare . . . . 199 

Rejoiced over them \ 200 

His faith in their final salvation 202 

The family in heaven ....".... 203 



16 



CONTENTS. 



VIII. PECUNIARY EMBARRASSMENTS. 

PAGE. 

Inadequate provision for the ministry 205 

206 

, 207 
209 

, 211 
211 

, 212 
213 

, 214 
216 

, 216 
218 
222 
223 
229 
230 



Distress of the Wesley family 

Its true causes . . ' . 

Great carefulness ... 

Lord Oxford's statement 

The Rector's "sorry management" 

Convocation expenses 

Publishing mania 

Benefactions . . • . 

No debts repudiated or forgiven . 

Mrs. Wesley's noble conduct . 

She looks to the future 

Damaging anecdote of the Rector 

Its truthfulness challenged 

Mrs. Wesley a true-hearted wife 

Her husband's strong affection for her 

His picture of a good wife 



IX. LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 

The bow in the cloud 232 

The Rector's health fails 233 

The right hand forgets her cunning 233 

Death of his grandson 234 

Terrible accident 234 

Difficulty in performing service 236 

The fruit of afflictions 237 

An appropriate sermon . 237 

Anxiety about a successor 238 

His son John refuses to succeed him 239 

Enters the valley in gloom 240 

The clouds disperse 241 

The last communion 242 

The Commendatory Prayer 243 

The golden sunset . . 244 



CONTENTS. 17 

PAGE. 

The epitaph . 245 

Preaching on the tomb 245 

Gracious results 246 

X. WIDOWHOOD. 

Merciful consolation . 248 

Left without means 248 

Farewell to the parsonage 250 

Retires to Gainsborough 251 

The story of the legacy 251 

A word about ministers' salaries 252 

Mrs. Wesley dependent on her sons ...... 253 

Oglethorpe and the prisoners 253 

Formation of the Georgian Colony 254 

The Rector of Epworth's deep interest in the project . . 255 
John Wesley solicited to go as a missionary . . . 256 

His mother consents . 257 

A noble example to parents 257 

Mrs. Wesley goes to Tiverton and Wootton .... 259 

Removes to Salisbury 260 

Hears of the conversion of John and Charles . . . 261 

Removes to London . 261 

Death of her eldest son 262 

Spiritual quickening 264 

Resides in the foundery . . 266 

Death of her youngest daughter 267 

The "Land Beulah" 267 

XI. THE RELEASE. 

Constitutional feebleness 268 

Frequent afflictions ........ 269 

Patient submission 269 

A beautiful meditation . 269 

Ready to depart . 270 



18 CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

The Commendatory Prayer and the Requiem . . . 272 

The actual "release" 273 

Death not annihilation 274 

Remarkable passage in one of her early letters . . . 275 

The burial 276 

The funeral sermon 277 

The ends of life meet 278 

Epitaph . . . . 279 

XII. RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

Religion her chief joy 280 

Imperceptible conversion 281 

Prayerfulness 282 

Set times for retirement 283 

Preparation for prayer 284 

Self-examination 285 

Preparation for the Lord's Supper 287 

Religious meditation 288 

Delight in the Scriptures 290 

Government of the tongue 291 

Rigid control over the appetites 293 

Mrs. Wesley's views on intemperance .... 294 

Strong temptations 296 

Not a mere cloister-life 297 

Services in the parsonage 297 

Account of the Danish missionaries 299 

The effect upon Mrs. Wesley's mind 300 

Remarkable spiritual quickening ..... 301 

Larger congregations at the parsonage 301 

Objections against her proceedings 302 

Replies to these objections . . . . . . . 305 

Noble appeal to her husband 306 

Happy results of the services 307 

Inner life . . 307 

Conscious salvation . . : . . . . . 313 



CONTENTS. 19 

XIII. RELATION TO METHODISM. 

PAGE. 

Religious condition of England 315 

Methodism not the creation of a day 316 

Some of its elements appeared in Westley of Whitchurch . 317 

First lay preacher 318 

The "Religious Societies" 319 

Wesley of Epworth advocated their formation . . . 320 
Approved the proceedings of his sons at Oxford . . . 322 
Mrs. Wesley's influence over her son John . . . 323 

Her special concern for his soul 324 

Advises him to take orders 325 

Counsels him on the doctrine of predestination . . . 327 

And about his style of preaching 329 

Encourages his movements at Oxford 331 

Rejoices in his conversion 332 

Approves the Methodistic proceedings 333 

John's testimony 333 

Efforts to turn her aside 334 

Interview with Whitefield 335 

Letter to Samuel 335 

Her fears dispelled 337 

Lay preaching begun 338 

Encourages lay preaching 338 

Influence of her own services at Epworth .... 340 
She was the mother of Methodism 341 

XIV. SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 

This chapter regarded as supplementary .... 344 

Samuel 345 

Emilia — Mrs. Harper . 350 

Susanna — Mrs. Ellison 857 

Mary— Mrs. Whitelamb 360 

Mehetable— Mrs. Wright 366 

Anne — Mrs. Lambert 874 



20 CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

John 375 

Martha— Mrs. Hall 380 

Charles 388 

Kezia .391 

Conclusion 396 



THE 



MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS: 



A BIOGRAPHY. 



THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 



PARENTAGE. 

Children's children are the crown of old men ; 
And the glory of children are their fathers. 

Proverbs of Solomon. 

"Monica is better known by the branch of her 
issue than the root of her parentage." This charac- 
teristic saying of Fuller applies with far greater force 
to Susanna Wesley than to the mother of Augustine. 
Like that "branch of the Lord" under whose foster- 
ing shade it sprang up and nourished, the branch of 
her issue is, indeed, " beautiful and glorious." It has 
become so lofty and wide- spread in its spiritual renown 
as to overshadow completely the root of her illus- 
trious parentage. 

Her ancestry may be traced up to an early period 
of our country's history. Some of them, it is be- 
lieved, could boast patrician blood, and occasionally 
filled important stations in the commonwealth; while 
others rejoiced in a nobility far higher than that of 

birth, or wealth, or station — the nobility of personal \ 

23 



24 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

godliness and filial relation to Him who is "Lord 
of all." 

Her father, according to the old Baptismal Regis- 
ter, still preserved, was " Samuell the sonne of John 
Anslye, and Judith his wife." Warwickshire, re- 
nowned for its undaunted earls ; the home of Perkins 
and Byfield among our divines, of Drayton and 
Shakspeare among our poets, was the shire of his 
nativity. There is, however, considerable difference 
among the authorities as to the precise locality of his 
birth. Williams, who preached his funeral sermon, 
says he was born at Killingworth ; and he is followed 
by Whitehead and Moore; but as there is no such 
place in the county, this must be a mistake. Another 
of his biographers fixes upon Kenilworth; but there 
is no evidence in favor of the supposition that he 
first saw the light in that romantic spot, so crowded 
with historical associations, and immortalized by Wal- 
ter Scott in his fascinating romance. Clarke, in his 
"Wesley Family," says he was born at Haxeley; 
and this is a little nearer the truth, at least in sound. 
Four miles north-west of Warwick there is a small 
village called Haseley, comprising about forty houses, 
and two hundred and fifty inhabitants. In the days 
of William the Conqueror, the manor was certified to 
contain "three hides and half a virgate of land; a 
church, and a mill; and the ancient woods belonging 
thereto, extending a mile in length and two furlongs 
in breadth." Here, in the ancient church, dedicated 
to Saint Mary, and still standing, young Annesley 



PARENTAGE. 25 

was baptized on the 27th of March, 1620. He was, 
therefore, in all likelihood, born within the limits of 
this parish, if not in the village itself. 

Numbering among his relatives some who "feared 
the Lord and thought upon his name," many and 
fervent prayers were offered on his behalf, even be- 
fore he was born. His aged grandmother, who passed 
to her reward shortly before his birth, desired as her 
last request that, if his mother should bring forth a 
man-child, his name should be called Samuel ; because 
" she had asked him of the Lord." The only son of 
his mother, and his father dying when he was about 
four years old, he was reared with tender and godly 
solicitude. The most careful attention was paid to 
his early religious training. His opening mind soon 
indicated a seriousness beyond his years. His anx- 
iety to prepare himself for some useful service, for- 
cibly reminds us of Milton's beautiful description of 
the " Holy Child Jesus :" 

" When I was yet a child, no childish play 
To me was pleasing; all my mind was set 
Seriously to learn and know, and thence to do, 
What might he public good." 

From the moment of his birth, his parents, in 

solemn vows and prayers, had consecrated him to the 

Lord "for the work of the ministry." The thought 

of this "high calling," as the momentous destiny of 

his life, early took full possession of his own breast. 

While yet young, and when most boys would be 

quietly plodding through the mere elements of sec- 
3 



26 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

ular learning, he was ardently reading twenty chap- 
ters a-day out of the Holy Book — a practice con- 
tinued to the end of life — that he might equip 
himself, as quickly and well as possible, for the faith- 
ful ministration of the everlasting Gospel. With him 
this preparation was no boyish pastime, no Sabbath 
amusement in the interval of worship; but a sacred 
resolve in the fear of God, from which he never 
swerved in after-life. Dreams of discouragement, 
and even of martyrdom for Ci the Word of God and 
the Testimony of Jesus," sometimes haunted his night 
visions; but they failed to shake his noble purpose. 
Daniel De Foe, who knew him well, sat under his min- 
istry, and held him in highest regard, summarises these 
facts of his early history in an elaborate elegy : 

" His parents dedicated aim by vow 
To serve the Church, and early taught him how 
As Hannah, when she for her Samuel prayed, 
The welcome loan with thankfulness repaid ; 
So they, foreseeing 't would not be in vain, 
Asked him of God arid vowed him back again : 
And he again as early did prepare 
To list a willing soldier in the sacred war. 

His pious course with childhood he began, 
And was his Maker's sooner than his own. 
As if designed by instinct to be great, 
His judgment seemed to antedate his wit: 
His soul outgrew the natural rate of years, 
And full-grown wit and half-grown youth appears ; 
Early the vigorous combat he began, 
And was an older Christian than a man. 
The sacred study all his thoughts confined — 
A sign what secret Hand prepared his mind — 
The Heavenly Book he made his only school, 
In youth his study, and in age his rule." 



PARENTAGE. 27 

During his college course at Oxford — remarkable 
for temperance and hard-working industry, rather 
than peculiar aptitude for learning, or distinguished 
success — the conviction of his call to the ministry 
continued in unabated force. In due time he re- 
alized the dearest wish of his heart; and toward the 
close of 1643, or the beginning of 1644, he was 
solemnly ordained to the sacred office, probably ac- 
cording to the Presbyterian form. Some assert that 
immediately after ordination " he began to cast his 
net, as a fisher of men," in the exercise of a chap- 
laincy on board a man-of-war ; but of this we fail to 
discover satisfactory evidence. In November, 1644, 
we find his signature in the parish Register of Cliffe, 
in Kent, into which valuable living he had recently 
been "intruded;" and this was probably his first set- 
tled charge.* 

Here he had to encounter the most violent opposi- 
tion. If we may trust the account in his funeral 
sermon, the parishioners, accustomed to a jovial par- 
son, " who greatly delighted them by his company at 
their dancing, drinking, and merriments on the Lord's 
Day," and most likely chafed at his removal by the 

* The dates here appear to be in great confusion. Calamy gives a 
certificate of ordination, signed by seven ministers, and dated De- 
cember the eighteenth, 1644. It states that Annesley was ordained 
to act as chaplain on board the Globe. This is a month after his 
first signature appears in the Register as rector of Cliffe. Calamy im- 
mediately goes on to say that he went to sea in 1648. Still he was at 
Cliffe in 1650, according to the Register. Was he at sea with the 
Earl of Warwick from August to December, 1648, according to Calamy, 
while he still held the living of Cliffe ? 



28 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

hand of authority, were not prepared to welcome 
peacefully a minister who would set his face as a 
flint against all this "rioting and drunkenness." 
They hailed him to his new parish with " spits, forks, 
and stones," and many times threatened his life. 

This was a rough beginning for a young divine 
" not much above twenty." But his moral courage 
quailed not before the howling tempest. His daunt- 
less answer to these rude greetings was truly noble 
and heroic. " Use me as you will, I am resolved to 
continue with you till God has fitted you, by my 
ministry, to entertain a better, who shall succeed me. 
Then, when you are so prepared, I will leave you." 
By his holy life, kindliness of heart, and ministerial 
fidelity, the storm of opposition was soon hushed. 
The enmity of these furious spirits "was changed 
into a passionate kindness." The moral wilderness, 
so arid and noxious when he commenced his labors 
of spiritual husbandry, " rejoiced and blossomed as 
the rose." The beauties of the spiritual landscape, 
" as a field which the Lord had blessed," blended 
in exquisite harmony with the surrounding loveliness 
of "the Garden of England." 

When Annesley came upon the stage of public life, 
the national quarrel between Royalist and Parlia- 
mentarian was rapidly reaching its hight. It was 
almost impossible for any public man, or any prom- 
inent minister of religion, to hold a neutral position 
in relation to the two great parties striving for the 
mastery. While he held the living of Cliffe, he was 



PARENTAGE. 29 

called, in due form, to preach before the House of 
Commons, in 1648. The nation was in a frenzy of 
excitement. The King was a prisoner in the Isle 
of Wight. The Lower House had predominant sway. 
The custom of the times all but imperatively de- 
manded that these official discourses should make al- 
lusion to the leading questions of the day, and An- 
nesley followed the ordinary course. His sermon, 
as published by order of the House of Commons, 
contains a very unfortunate passage in relation to 
the King. Speaking of the conduct of the Israelites 
in demanding a monarch as their ruler, he says, 
" The people are now, as then : i We will have a 
King !' He hearkens to the people, and sets the 
king upon his throne. They shout out ' Yivat ! ' 
Surely they are now happy ! He reigns over them 
one year well ; two years indifferent. What then ? 
You see the Scripture vails. I waive it. What he 
did in the business of Amalek, Gibeon, David, Abim- 
elech ; what wars, famine, cruelty Israel lay under, I 
would rather you should read than I speak. God 
give the King a spirit of grace and government ! 
' Woe unto thee, land, when thy King is a child !' 
is rather meant of a child in manners, than in years." 
This passage, so acceptable to the Parliamentary 
party, was intensely offensive to the Royalists, who 
regarded it as a reflection upon the King. Even 
some of Annesley's biographers have accepted it as 
full proof that he " went all the lengths of the Pres- 
byterian party." The passage is mischievous in its 



30 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

very vagueness, apparently hinting at far more than 
it expresses. But, while it clearly indicates his dis- 
approval of some parts of the King's conduct, it by 
no means proves that the writer held republican 
principles, or abetted and approved the measures 
which brought the unfortunate monarch to the scaf- 
fold. If his own testimony in later life is to be 
relied upon, he publicly disapproved that deed of 
blood; and his maturer principles were far nearer 
allied to those of the Royalists, than of the men of 
the Commonwealth. In a petition, addressed to 
Charles the Second immediately after the Restora- 
tion, and still preserved in the State Paper Office, 
he alleges that he "publicly detested the horrid 
murder" of the late King; that he refused the en- 
gagement," and persuaded others against it; that he 
"peremptorily refused to send out a horse against" 
His Majesty at Worcester ; that he sent " a man all 
night above forty miles to seize upon the keys of the 
church, and prevent one that would, against his con- 
sent, have kept the day of Thanksgiving for their 
success at Worcester;" that he had several times 
said " to some of note in the army, that God would 
discover Cromwell to be the arrantest hypocrite that 
ever the Church of Christ was pestered with, for he 
would pull down others only to make his own way 
to the throne." He declares that, "upon these and 
other expressions of disliking the Powers then up- 
permost, to whom complaint was made," he was 
" necessitated to quit a parsonage worth between two 



PARENTAGE. 31 

and three hundred pounds per annum, and get into 
the least parish in London, without any other title 
besides the choice of the people." Now, unless we 
are prepared to impeach Annesley's sincerity and 
truthfulness, and to regard him, as he regarded 
Cromwell, as one of the " arrantest hypocrites that 
ever the Church of God was pestered with," we 
must accept this as a frank and honest statement 
of his views and conduct in relation to the events 
to which it refers. 

This petition also enables us to trace one or two 
matters in the Doctor's personal history, which hith- 
erto have not been very clear. Calamy and others 
say, that he left Cliffe in consequence of his pledge 
to remove as soon as the inhabitants were prepared 
for the ministry of a worthier man than himself. 
But he declares that he was "necessitated" to remove 
as the result of his disapproval of the " horrid mur- 
der" of Charles, and other manifestations of royal- 
ist views in opposition to the dominant will. This 
probably explains the " remarkable providence " 
which "led him to London," so significantly al- 
luded to, but not stated by his biographers. These 
facts disclose additional reasons why his parish- 
ioners were so deeply afflicted at his departure. 
Not only had he been a priceless blessing to their 
souls, and won their strongest affection, but the ten- 
der relation was severed by a rude necessity laid 
upon him by the hand of authority. Amid " many 
tears and cries," and a thousand other tokens of 



32 THE MOTHEK OF THE WESLEYS. 

heart-felt love, he walked forth from among his be- 
loved flock, probably not knowing what might be- 
fall him. 

The " smallest parish in London," mentioned in 
the petition, was probably that of Saint John the 
Evangelist, clustering around the ancient edifice in 
Friday-street, Cheapside, where he zealously labored 
six or seven years. In July, 1657, Cromwell, who, 
according to the petition already quoted, had twice 
refused to present him to a valuable living of four 
hundred a-year, when nominated by the proper pa- 
tron, sent for Annesley, and, " to cover his base in- 
justice," gave him the Lord's Day evening Lecture 
at Saint Paul's, with " a salary of a hundred and 
twenty pounds per annum, out of the four hundred 
pounds per annum formerly settled by Parliament 
for that and a week-day Lecture." This emolument 
he was afraid of losing at the Restoration, and there- 
fore petitioned Charles for its continuance. The first 
answer, July the twenty-first, 1660, declared "His 
Majesty's pleasure " that the " petitioner might con- 
tinue in the said Lecture; but for the salary, His 
Majesty knows nothing of it, nor is obliged to pay 
it." Soon after, an additional answer discharged 
him from his duty, on the ground, that, "the said 
pretended Lecture " was incumbent upon the Dean 
and Chapter, who were commanded to " take charge 
thereof as heretofore." 

On the twentieth of October, 1658, by the favor 
of Richard Cromwell, " Cripplegate was made glad 



PARENTAGE. 33 

by his settlement therein." This gladness, however, 
was not universal. After the Restoration, some of 
the parishioners forwarded a petition for his removal. 
They allege that Charles the First had " conferred 
the said vicarage on Doctor Bruno Ryves, Dean of 
Chichester ;" but " by reason of the late troubles, 
the said Doctor Ryves could not enjoy the benefit 
of His Majesty's gracious favor," nor they " the ben- 
efit of his labors, to the great grief and sorrow of 
their hearts. So at present one Doctor Annesley 
doth possess the said vicarage, contrary to the votes 
and desires of most of the inhabitants, .... 
pretending to be settled upon us by a grant from the 
late Tyrant, or his son." They therefore prayed his 
removal and the appointment of Doctor Ryves, " that 
so numerous a people may not any longer be left 
destitute of an orthodox and godly divine, to instruct 
them in all the ways of godliness and loyalty." 

We are not disposed to attach more importance to 
these representations, as against Annesley, than they 
are really worth. In charging him, by implication, 
with heterodoxy, and lack of godliness and loyalty, 
they do him a serious and unmerited wrong. If 
there be any truth in the petition, he suffered him- 
self to be imposed upon the parish by Richard Crom- 
well in spite of the opposition of some of the inhab- 
itants. The oppositionists did not gain their end. 
Annesley was confirmed in the living, and continued 
his useful labors till August, 1662. 

Now came a memorable epoch in the history of the 



34 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

Church of England, and a terrible crisis in the fam- 
ilies of two thousand of her most godly ministers. 
The Act of Uniformity, requiring every clergyman 
to declare, among other things, his " unfeigned as- 
sent to all and every thing contained and prescribed 
in " the Book of Common Prayer, on pain of losing 
all his emoluments, and being prohibited preaching 
or lecturing in any place, passed the legislature early 
in 1662. Then began " great searchings of heart" 
among the men against whom it was notoriously lev- 
eled. Who can imagine the struggle between the 
varied and tender influences pleading on the side of 
compliance, and the stern convictions of conscience 
which prompted to a stout resistance ? Happy social 
intercourse ; the village home ; the rural walk, so full 
v of pleasant memories ; the venerable church, hallowed 
by the recollection of its blessed services ; and, above 
all, the beloved flocks, whose thought these pastors 
had educated, whose moral and spiritual sensibilities 
they had quickened and matured, must all be given up. 
It was a sad wrench from all they held dear, except 
the priceless blessing of " a good conscience." Then 
loomed up before them the prospect of silent Sab- 
baths ; public reproach ; years of homelessness ; and 
life passing away with little of that fruit which, in 
the estimation of such men, alone endues it with the 
greatest sweetness and value.* 

On the seventeenth of August, "nearly two thou- 
sand" of these noble men addressed their congrega- 

* Vaughan's Memorial Volume. 



■ PARENTAGE. 35 

tions for the last time within the walls of National 
churches. Among the holiest and best of this large 
band of confessors was Samuel Annesley. His rel- 
ative, Lord Anglesea, then in high favor with the 
ruling powers, used efforts to induce him to conform, 
and probably offered him high preferment if he re- 
mained in the Establishment. But he would not 
yield; and at no small cost of feeling and money 
" he went out, not knowing whither he went." 

During the ten following years we have no traces 
of his dwelling-place, except the vague statement 
that he remained in London. The common informer 
sometimes tracked his steps with keen and malignant 
eye ; but he escaped being haled before the judge 
and cast into prison. " His Non-Conformity created 
him many outward troubles, but no inward uneasi- . 
ness. God often remarkably appeared for him ;" 
and one magistrate was suddenly struck dead while 
signing the warrant for his apprehension. 

Happier days, however, were about to dawn. Early 
in 1672 the King issued the famous Declaration of 
Indulgence, proclaiming the suspension of " all man- 
ner of penal laws in matters ecclesiastical, against 
whatever sect of Non-Conformists or recusants." An- 
nesley licensed a "Meeting-House" in Little Saint 
Helen's, Bishopsgate-street. He soon gathered a 
large congregation and a nourishing Church. Loving 
his flock and loved by them in return, during the 
next quarter of a century he was one of the most 
attractive, laborious, and useful preachers of his day. 



36 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

His personal appearance was noble and command- 
ing. "Fine figure;" "dignified mien;" "highly-ex- 
pressive and amiable countenance," are the phrases 
used by his co temporaries. Hardy in constitution 
and almost insensible to cold, hat, gloves, and top- 
coat were no necessities to him, even in the depth of 
Winter. The days of " hoare frost " and chilling 
winds found him in his study, at the top of the 
house, with open window and empty fire-grate. 
Temperate in all things, he needed no stimulants, 
and from his infancy hardly ever drank any thing 
but water. He could endure any amount of active 
exercise and toil, preaching twice or thrice every day 
of the week without any sense of weariness. Till 
the time that the Divine Voice said unto him, " Get 
thee up and die," his " eye was not dim, nor his 
natural force abated." 

While he never swerved from his principles as a 
Non-Conformist, he never offensively obtruded them 
as matters of noisy contention. When the ablest of 
Presbyterians, Independents, and Prelatists gathered 
up their strength and girded on their armor to cham- 
pion the Church-principles of their respective denom- 
inations ; when Baxter, Bates, and even the " seraphic 
Howe," left the higher themes of celestial contem- 
plation to mingle in the wordy strife, not one con- 
troversial pamphlet issued from Annesley's pen. He 
was a man of marked prominence among his sect ; a 
very prince in the tribe to which he belonged. He 
possessed an intellect capable of grasping the leading 



PARENTAGE. 37 

points of the discussions going on around him. His 
judgment was apparently clear and serene. The 
weight of his moral character was beyond all price 
to his party. He could not be indifferent to his 
principles, for he had sacrificed seven hundred a-year 
rather than abjure them. How was it, then, that he 
stood aloof from the all-absorbing strife? There 
were other themes more congenial to his thoughts, 
and in the contemplation and enforcement -of which 
he probably believed he could more glorify God, and 
better serve the spiritual interests of his community. 
He could walk about Zion, telling the towers thereof, 
marking well her bulwarks, and considering her pal- 
aces ; but he felt that his calling was not to labor 
upon these outer-works of the City of God. The 
temple and the altar were the place of his ministry. 
Catching the holy light streaming from the Heavenly 
Shekinah, keeping the fire of a living love ever burn- 
ing upon the altar, he bade the worshiping throngs 
" draw nigh unto God," while he offered " incense 
and a pure offering." "How we may attain to love 
God with all our hearts ;" how " we may give Christ 
a satisfactory account why we attend upon the min- 
istry of the Word ;" how to " understand the Cove- 
nant of Grace ;" and how we may enjoy " communion 
with God" — these were the sacred casuistries which 
he was most anxious to discuss and settle for him- 
self and his people. 

His preaching, consisting largely in what was then 
called " the solution of cases," was lively, simple, 



38 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

and attractive. De Foe, who speaks of " his taking 
aspect " and his " charming tongue," gives the fol- 
lowing description of his pulpit style : 

" The Sacred Bow he so divinely drew, 
That every shaft both hit and overthrew. 
His native candor and familiar style, 
Which did so oft his hearers' hours beguile, 
Charmed us with godliness ; and while he spake 
We loved the doctrine for the teacher's sake. 
While he informed us what those doctrines meant, 
By dint of practice more than argument, 
Strange were the charms of his sincerity, 
Which made his action and his words agree." 

His liberality was only bounded by the extent of 
his means. He consecrated a tenth of all his own 
substance unto the Lord ; and was a faithful almoner 
of many. " The sick, the widows, the orphans were 
innumerable whom he relieved and settled." The 
poor looked up to him as a common father. He 
spent much in the relief of needy ministers, in the 
education of candidates for holy orders, and in the 
circulation of Bibles, Catechisms, and profitable books. 
" 0, how many places had sat in darkness," exclaims 
Williams in his funeral sermon ; " how many minis- 
ters had been starved, if Doctor Annesley had died 
thirty-four years since ! The Gospel he even forced 
into several ignorant places, and was the chief instru- 
ment in the education as well as subsistence of sev- 
eral ministers." 

Every day he prayed twice in his family — and do- 
mestic worship was a more extensive service in those 



PARENTAGE. 39 

days than now — and three or four times in his closet. 
Every extraordinary occurrence in his household was 
celebrated by a religious fast. Every affliction, " be- 
fore he would speak of it, or pitch upon any means 
to redress it," was spread before God in prayer. His 
supplications " were mighty," #nd the returns were 
remarkable and frequent. Though a sensitive and 
most aifectionate husband, grace enabled him calmly 
to bear the tidings of his wife's death. " The Lord 
gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the 
name of the Lord," was his saintly utterance. Con- 
secrated to God in infancy, he declared he " never 
knew the time when he was not converted." Need 
we wonder that the ministry of such a man was 
greatly honored of God? Living in the unclouded 
light of the Divine countenance, and holding un- 
broken communion with Heaven, his doctrine dropped 
as the rain, his speech distilled as the dew ; " as 
the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the 
showers upon the grass." He had " great success. 
Many called him father, as the instrument of their 
conversion; and many called him comforter." 

Such was Doctor Annesley, the father of Susanna 
Wesley. Reserving the description of his last hours 
for a subsequent chapter, we proceed to consider 
another inquiry — Who was Mrs. Wesley's mother? 
This question has cost us no inconsiderable amount 
of perplexity and trouble. None of Annesley's biog- 
raphers even hint at his marriage. With the excep- 
tion of the venerable William Beal, in a recent edi-. 



40 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

tion of his " Wesley Fathers," no writer makes the 
remotest allusion to the subject of our present in- 
quiry. The omission greatly surprised us ; and long 
was our search in order to supply it. 

From a careful examination of the Registers at 
Cliffe, we found that Annesley was married at the 
time he held that important living. The Baptismal 
records for 1645 inform us that " Samuel, son of 
Samuel Annesley, Chief Minister of this Parish of 
Cliffe, was baptized the thirtieth day of November." 
There is, also, the entry of his burial in 1650. And 
in the records of 1646 we read, " Mary, wife of 
Samuel Annesley, Rector of this Parish, was buried 
the second day of December : she was buried in the 
Chancell, at the East end of the great tomb, on the 
South side." It is clear, however, that this wife of 
Annesley's youth, and mother of his first-born son, 
could not be the mother of his daughter Susanna. 

We next pondered John Wesley's statement, that 
" her father and grandfather were preachers of right- 
eousness." But this furnished no clew which could 
lead to any satisfactory results. The promise of 
success seemed to rise up before us, when we acci- 
dentally came upon the following sentence, in a let- 
ter of Wesley to his brother Charles : " You know 
that Mr. White, some time Chairman of the Assem- 
bly of Divines, was my grandmother's father." This 
was the Rev. John White, so long known as " the 
Patriarch of Dorchester ;" " a grave man, yet with- 
out moroseness ;" " a constant preacher, so that in 



PAKENTAGE. 41 

the course of his ministry he expounded the Scrip- 
tures all over, and half over again ;" who " abso- 
lutely commanded his own passions, and the purses 
of his parishioners, whom he could wind up to what 
hight he pleased on important occasions."* But, 
alas, further search proved that the grandmother to 
whom Wesley alludes as the daughter of this good 
man was the wife of John Westley of Whitchurch, 
and mother of the rector of Epworth; and not the 
consort of Samuel Annesley, or the mother of his 
daughter Susanna. 

Foiled at every step, and about to give up all fur- 
ther effort, a friend directed our attention to a curious 
old folio, entitled, " A Compleat History of the Most 
Remarkable Providences, both of Judgment and 
Mercy, which have happened in this present age." 
There, in the middle of a chapter of curious epitaphs, 
we read — " The following Epitaph was written upon 
the tombstone of John White, Esquire ; a member of 
the House of Commons in the year 1640, and Father 
of Doctor Annesley's wife, lately deceased — 

' Here lies a John, a burning, shining light, 
Whose Name, Life, Actions all alike were White.' " 

The book was published by Dunton, Annesley's 
son-in-law ; and the statement may, therefore, be re- 
lied upon, as he was a careful collector of facts, and, 
from his close connection with the family, had every 
means of knowing the truth. According to Claren- 

* Fuller's " Worthies of England." 
4 



42 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

don, this John White was " a grave lawyer, and 
made a considerable figure in his profession." The 
borough of South wark elected him as their represent- 
ative to the Long Parliament, in 1640. A Puritan 
from his youth, he was very decided in his religious 
principles, and took an active part in the ecclesiastical 
controversies of the times. He was one of the feof- 
fees for buying in Impropriations, and was censured 
by the Star Chamber. He was an active member of 
the Assembly of Divines ; Chairman of the " Com- 
mittee for Plundered Ministers ;" and, of course, a 
strong witness against Archbishop Laud on his im- 
portant trial. He published the " Century of Scan- 
dalous Malignant Priests ;" and, in the opinion of 
Whitelock, " was' an honest, learned, and faithful 
servant of the public, though somewhat severe at the 
Committee for Plundered Ministers." He died in 
January, 1644, and was buried in the Temple Church 
with great ceremony, the members of the House of 
Commons attending his funeral. 

The reader will not fail to observe the somewhat 
remarkable coincidences here disclosed between the 
great-grandfathers of the Founder of Methodism. 
They bore the same christian and surname. They 
were both eminent in their respective professions ; 
the one in the Gospel, the other in the law. Both 
were members of the far-famed Westminster Assem-^ 
bly of Divines ; both held high positions, the one in 
the Church, the other in the State ; and both were 
thoroughly attached to their religious principles. If, 



PARENTAGE. 43 

therefore, there be any thing in an ancestry which 
combines learning, respectability, and godliness on 
both sides, John Wesley may certainly claim a true 
nobleness of descent. 

The daughter of John White, the " grave lawyer " 
and earnest and respectable Puritan, was probably 
married to Samuel Annesley about the time of his 
removal to London, in 1652. The few dim intima- 
tions concerning her which have turned up in the 
course of our researches, impress us with the idea 
that she was a woman of superior understanding, and 
earnest and consistent piety. She was deeply loved 
by her husband, who cherished a passionate desire to 
be buried in her grave. She spared no labor in en- 
deavoring to promote the religious welfare of her 
numerous children. Her daughter Elizabeth " ac- 
knowledges in her papers, found after her death, the 
good providence of God in giving her religious par- 
ents, that, with united endeavors, took a mighty care 
of her education." 

After a somewhat careful study, we have failed to 
discover any great similarity in the intellectual qual- 
ities and predominant character of Susanna Wesley 
and those of her father. His temperament was 
sprightly and social; hers thoughtful and reflective. 
His intellect was ready, rather than profound ; hers 
strong and penetrating. His judgment was some- 
what given to waver; hers, when once formed, no 
earthly influence could shake. Perhaps, if we had 
the advantage of clearer light, we should find that, 



44 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

unknown as is the mother of Susanna Wesley to the 
world, from her were inherited those grand qualities 
of character so much admired in her daughter; and 
it might possibly be further revealed, that the godly 
ordering of the family in the Epworth rectory was 
only a beautiful and blessed imitation of that which 
prevailed in the house of the Non-Conformist minis- 
ter under the care of Susanna Wesley's own mother. 



GIRLHOOD. 45 



II. 

GIRLHOOD. 

Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth 

Wisely hast shunned the hroad way and the green, 

And with those few art eminently seen 

That labor up the hill of heavenly truth, 

The better part with Mary and with Ruth 

Chosen thou hast. Milton. 

"Born in London!" This, unless you can tell 
number, street, and nearest main thoroughfare, is the 
vaguest way in which the birthplace of a mortal can 
be announced. A rustic hamlet of twenty houses — 
a solitary homestead on a bleak hill-side, or in the 
very heart of some heather-purpled moorland, is a 
thousand times more preferable as a place of entrance 
into life than the wide-spread wilderness of the British 
metropolis. If from some retired spot you happen 
to rise in the world of wealth, or weave for yourself 
a fair wreath of literary renown, or are "had in 
reputation" for your solid Christian worth in the 
Church of God, men of after-times will point to 
your parent home and say, "This man was born 
there." But, however lofty your subsequent fame, 
you can add nothing to the glory of the great city 
by the fact that you were born within her borders. 



46 /THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

Thousands have gone on pilgrimage to the house 
where " the sweet Swan of Avon " entered the world ; 
but who ever saw even a hero-worshiper searching 
for the home where the Bard of Paradise gave the 
first signs of life? Are the admirers of Shakspeare 
more numerous or enthusiastic than the admirers of 
Milton? The explanation lies in the simple fact that 
the one was born in a pretty provincial town, the 
other was doomed to face the world from a most 
unpoetic locality called Bread-street, Cheapside. 

Between Bishopsgate-street and Spital Square lies 
a short, narrow, obscure yard, which we never pass 
without a momentary pause and a few pleasurable 
reflections. The neighborhood, like many others in 
the metropolis, is "very much decayed." But two 
hundred years ago the houses, now so strangely 
altered, though not improved, by the changes through 
which they have passed, were the abodes of wealthy 
and respectable citizens. This is Spital Yard, where 
Doctor Annesley lived during the time of his pas- 
torate over Little Saint Helens. At the top of one 
of these houses, probably that which blocks up the 
lower end of the yard, he had his oratory, where he 
devoutly read twenty chapters a day in the Holy 
Book;' in some of these rooms he held conferences 
with grave divines about the state and prospects of 
their Churches; from one of these doorways the 
mortal remains of himself and his beloved wife 
passed to their final earthly resting-place. And if 
the mother of the Wesleys were not born in one of 



GIRLHOOD. 47 

these very houses, on the 20th of January, 1669, it 
is- certain that here she spent her girlhood and en- 
joyed her childish pastimes; here the fine qualities 
of her noble mind were first called into play; here 
she studied Church controversies, and decided for 
herself; while yet of tender age; and from hence, 
accompanied by "the virgins her companions," she 
went forth out of her chamber, decked in bridal attire, 
" on the. day of her espousals." 

"How many children has Doctor Annesley?" said 
a friend to Thomas Manton, who had just consecrated 
one more to the Lord in the holy sacrament of bap- 
tism. "I believe it is two dozen, or a quarter of a 
hundred," was the startling reply. "This reckoning 
children by dozens," sagely remarks the eccentric 
John Dunton, "is a singular circumstance — an honor 
to which few persons ever arrive." Is it possible 
to catch a glimpse of this "quarter of a hundred" 
children of one family and form some definite idea 
of the home circle in which Susanna Wesley passed 
her earliest years? Records largely fail us, and the 
task can be only partially performed. Many of them 
probably were but " sons of a night," and, like early 
Spring flowers, withered away the moment life's morn- 
ing sunbeams began to beat upon their head; others 
bloomed into youthful beauty, and a few developed 
into mature life. Besides Samuel, the first-born, 
buried at Cliffe, there was a second son of the same 
name. Trained for merchandise, he left home, and 
friends, and wife for a lucrative situation in far- 



48 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

distant India. There he amassed wealth; made 
promises to some of his poorer relatives which he 
never fulfilled; died among strangers; and over the 
manner of his death — whether by accident, disease, 
or violence — hangs a still unlifted vail of uncertainty. 
Judith, who bears her grandmother's name, is repre- 
sented as a "virgin of eminent piety;" finding her 
" sweetest entertainment in good books ;" keeping 
"constant watch over the frame of her soul and the 
course of her actions by daily and strict examination 
of both ;" and, finally, rejecting a wealthy lover, 
whose passion she warmly reciprocated, because she 
discovered that he was " given to much wine." Anne 
was " a wit for certain ; than whom art never feigned, 
nor nature formed a finer woman." Wealth, acquired 
by marriage, only made her more humble and con- 
descending. Her life was " one continued act of 
tenderness, wit, and piety." Elizabeth, the devout 
and affectionate wife of Dunton, was " pleasant, witty, 
and virtuous; mistress of all those graces that can 
be desired to make a complete woman;" fearing God 
from her youth, and closing a life of holiness with 
a death of triumph. When the vital flame began 
to burn a little dim she said : " Heaven will make 
amends for all! It is but a little while before I 
shall be happy. I have good ground to hope that 
when I die, through Christ, I shall be blessed; for I 
dedicated myself to God from my youth. 0, what 
a mercy it is to be dedicated to God betimes !" In 
carefully examining Dunton's pages we also catch a 



GIRLHOOD. 49 

glimpse ot Saran, whose name alone survives, and 
of three other daughters who grew up and entered 
into the marriage state. And, finally, there is that 
"grateful and most ingenuous youth," Benjamin, the 
youngest son, and executor to his father's will. 

As we have no record of more than three sons, 
the first of whom died very young, it is probable that 
the " two dozen, or a quarter of a hundred " children 
of Doctor Annesley, consisted mainly of the gentler 
sex. Of this goodly number of fair daughters, Su- 
sanna was the youngest. The incidents of her child- 
hood are, for the most part, beyond recall. "Pres- 
ervation from ill accidents, and once from a violent 
death," she records among the many loving-kind- 
nesses and tender mercies which crowned her girlish 
years. Not the remotest hint of the place and mode 
of her education has come down to us. Was she 
sent to school, or placed under tutors at home ? Did 
an elder sister conduct the school-training of the 
younger ones ? Did the good mother, as we are dis- 
posed to think, like Susanna herself in later times, 
make this the chief business of her life ? To these 
questions there is no satisfactory answer. All we 
positively know is, that she received in early life a 
thoroughly good education. 

It is generally admitted that she had a respectable 
knowledge of French, and probably read some devo- 
tional works in that fashionable tongue, though I 
have discovered no positive proof of this conjecture. 
The English language she had thoroughly mastered, 



50 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

and wrote it with marvelous neatness and grammat- 
ical accuracy. For clearness, strength, and well- 
constructed sentences, her writings, though not pre- 
pared for the public eye, compare favorably with the 
most classic English of her times. Logic and meta- 
physics are commonly supposed to have entered 
largely into her intellectual training ; and her letters 
and treatises are not without indications that her 
mind was early familiarized with these abstruse and 
" unlady-like " studies. We know not whether she 
excelled in music ; whether harp or piano gave forth 
their dulcet notes in response to her delicate and 
skillful touch ; but there is ample proof that she was 
not without the accomplishment of song, which she 
taught to her children and practiced in her family. 

Not content, however, with regarding her as thor- 
oughly educated in the learning and accomplishments 
considered essential for young ladies of similar sta- 
tion in her times, it has been the favorite idea of all 
her previous biographers, that she extended her stud- 
ies to the classics, and was well acquainted with 
Greek and Latin. But is there not some mistake 
here ? In addition to the antecedent improbabilities 
of the case, I have diligently searched her writings 
without discovering a solitary Greek or Latin word, 
or the remotest hint that she was familiar with these 
languages, either in earlier or later life. This pre- 
sumptive argument can not be set aside by the sup- 
position that her own good sense would not allow her 
to parade her learning in her correspondence. They 



GIRLHOOD. 51 

who knew classics in those times sprinkled their cor- 
respondence with learned words and phrases, as well 
as employed them in conversation. Mrs. Wesley was 
constantly corresponding with sons who had a good 
knowledge of both Greek and Latin. Her letters re- 
lated to subjects of a scholastic and theological char- 
acter, where learned references and quotations would 
have been perfectly in place. In writing to their 
father, these young scholars freely interlaid their 
epistles with Latin and Greek, and sometimes com- 
posed them entirely in the former language. But 
when writing to their mother, good English is alone 
employed. This difference seems unaccountable on 
the supposition that Mrs. Wesley possessed the clas- 
sical attainments so commonly ascribed to her. 

There is, also, an important passage in one of her 
husband's letters, unnoticed by previous writers, but 
which has an important bearing upon the question. 
When encouraging Samuel, who had just left home 
for Westminster School, to write very freely about 
his secret thoughts and temptations, his father says, 
" I will promise you so much secrecy that even your 
mother shall know nothing but what you have a mind 
she should ; for which reason it may be convenient 
you should write to me still in Latin." What need 
we any further witness? The advice to write in 
Latin in order that his mother, if the letter accident- 
ally fell into her hands, should not be able to under- 
stand its meaning, clearly shows that she was igno- 
rant of that ancient language. But do we detract 



52 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

from the just fame of this remarkable woman by sup- 
posing she was " no classic ?" Certainly not. Make 
the abatement to the full, and her acknowledged at- 
tainments amply prove that, in the best sense of the 
phrase, she was a well-educated woman. 

Amid all this intellectual culture, her domestic 
training was not overlooked. Many young ladies in 
our own day are " highly educated ;" " thoroughly 
accomplished." Music, dancing, and song are quite 
in their way, and never come amiss. They converse 
fluently in French, German, and, perhaps, Italian. 
They understand all about the etiquette of the ball- 
room and the amenities of elegant society ; and this 
is their sole education. While they are regarded only 
as " accomplished daughters," these attractive attain- 
ments may do very well. But how fares it when 
they pass from a mother's care to become the head 
of a domestic establishment, having servants under 
them ? What know they about " those vulgar things " 
called household matters ? Are they not looked upon 
as a burden and "a bore?" Under their manage- 
ment, instead of a well-ordered house, Confusion soon 
asserts her sway and rules supreme in all domestic 
matters. 

This was not the training received by Susanna 
Annesley. She was as well instructed in the affairs 
of the kitchen and the servants, as in those of the 
drawing-room and the visitors. As we trace, in sub- 
sequent chapters, her consummate management of a 
large household on very inadequate means, and with 



GIKLHOOD. 53 

often only one servant, the conviction will irresistibly 
force itself upon us that, in early life, she did not 
disdain to study and understand every part of wom- 
an's domestic duty. She left her father's house 
thoroughly accomplished in every thing necessary 
for a young lady to know in any household where 
she might become a wife, a mistress, and a mother. 

We do not desire the abatement of one jot or tittle 
in the intellectual education of young ladies ; or even 
in what are commonly known as accomplishments. 
But we do plead that mothers and daughters should 
combine the useful with the ornamental ; a thorough 
domestic training with the highest culture of mind 
and manners their means will allow, and their con- 
templated station in society require. Then, and only 
then, will our English homes become such as all 
right-hearted Englishmen will respect and love — 
scenes of order, comfort, and peace. Then will the 
wife, like Susanna Wesley at Epworth, take her 
proper place, and reign as queen in her own house. 
The scepter of her influence will exert its quiet sway 
over every department. " The heart of her husband 
will safely trust in her," because " she looketh well 
to the ways of her household, and eateth not the 
bread of idleness." He that findeth such a wife 
" findeth a good thing," and will declare that " her 
price is above rubies." 

It will readily be inferred, that the intellectual 
powers of Susanna Wesley were of no common or- 
der. Her strong and penetrating mind — perhaps a 



54 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

little too self-confident in these early years — feared 
no difficulty. In search of truth, she looked the most 
formidable objections full in the face. Her attention 
once aroused to the consideration of a given subject, 
all its perplexities must be canvassed, and honest 
conclusions attained on the sole ground of its own 
merits. Happily her first intellectual efforts were 
stimulated by good thoughts, and strengthened by 
wholesome reading. Her mind was no hot-bed of 
speculative notions and romantic sentimentalisms, 
forced into unnatural growths by the heated influence 
of fiction. The three-volume novel, after which 
young ladies now so deeply sigh, and which they 
so earnestly devour, is a creation of later times. 
But had it been in existence, this girl would not 
have sated her mental appetite with such light and 
frothy food. She recognizes " good books " among 
the early mercies of her childhood; but we are left 
to divine what books they were. No doubt they 
mainly related to experimental and practical religion. 
The writings of Bunyan, Jeremy Taylor, and many 
of those precious and godly treatises which, in that 
prolific age of theological literature, streamed from 
the ready pens of the early Puritans, were most 
likely among her chosen and instructive book-com- 
panions. 

But her mental movements were not limited by 
this usual circle of female reading. She plunged 
fearlessly into the troubled stream of theologic con- 
troversy, and well-nigh made shipwreck of her faith. 



GIRLHOOD. 55 

Arianism and Socinianism were not uncommon in 
those times ; and her active intellect girded itself for 
the perilous investigation. This boldness of specula- 
tion, in one so young, and on subjects the most sa- 
cred and difficult, is not to be commended. It min- 
isters to self-confidence, and often leads to the entire 
overthrow of belief in Divine Revelation. Mrs. 
Wesley's faith in the leading verities of the Gospel 
was shaken, and her mind drawn away from the 
truth. Her wanderings in the terrible wilderness of 
this deadly heresy were probably not long. Happily 
the clew to guide her out of its dangerous laby- 
rinths was found and followed. Samuel Wesley — 
most likely at that time her affianced husband — was 
a master in this particular controversy, even in early 
life. While a student in a Dissenting academy, he 
was employed to translate some of the writings of 
John Biddle, the father of English Socinianism, " and 
was promised a considerable gratuity for doing it." 
But when he discovered the true character of his 
author, he refused to prosecute the allotted task. 
This indicates a clear and strong conviction on the 
important doctrines in dispute ; and it was his joy to 
be the means of Susanna Annesley's rescue. In one 
of her private meditations she mentions it among 
her greatest mercies, that she was " married to a re- 
ligious orthodox man; by him first drawn off from 
the Socinian heresy, and afterward confirmed and 
strengthened by B. B." — most likely Bishop Bull, 
whose able defenses of the evangelical faith were 



56 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

published in the days of her youth. By these means 
her theological views became thoroughly established. 
Many passages in her writings contain clear exposi- 
tions and admirable defenses of the great truths con- 
cerning the Holy Trinity, the Godhead and atone- 
ment of the Lord Jesus, and the Divine Personality 
and work of the Eternal Spirit. 

This same independent thinking manifested itself 
also in relation to another much-disputed question. 
In her times ecclesiastical controversies lifted up 
their voice and clamored for attention. Discussions 
on forms of Church government ran high. Con- 
formity and Non-Conformity were pitted against each 
other, and courageously championed by the most 
vigorous of their sons. Such controversies generally 
make little impression upon the girlish minds of any 
age. Content to pay becoming attention to "the 
weightier matters of the law," they are mostly ready 
to pass by the "mint, and anise, and cummin," and 
leave purely-ecclesiastical questions to the judgment 
of the other sex. But in this, as in many other 
respects, Susanna Wesley was an exception to the 
general rule. The din of the wordy controversy 
naturally invaded her father's house, and the mind 
of the quick and thoughtful girl was set in motion. 
She began to thread her way through the principal 
parts of this thorny disputation before she was "full 
thirteen." The result was that, renouncing the eccle- 
siastical creed of her father, she attached herself 
henceforth to the communion and services of the 



GIRLHOOD. 57 

Established Church. This act indicates strength of 
will as well as strength of thought. If, as Clarke 
and others represent, she had "examined the whole 
controversy between the Established Church and the 
Dissenters," she must have been one of the most 
industrious readers and precocious logicians the world 
ever saw. We doubtj however, if her own words, 
written about her fortieth year, will sustain this 
representation. Speaking of a treatise she had pre- 
pared for her children, and which was unfortunately 
consumed with the Epworth parsonage, she says: 
" And because I was educated among the Dissenters, 
and there was something remarkable in my leaving 
them at so early an age, not being full thirteen, 
I had drawn up an account of the whole transaction, 
under which I had included the main of the contro- 
versy between them and the Established Church, as far 
as it had come to my knowledge." We fail to find 
in this passage any thing to sustain the statement 
that she had mastered the whole of this difficult 
question in her thirteenth year. The reference is 
to what she had accomplished in the written treatise 
rather than to the studies of her youthful days. 

Still the fact remains that, when a mere child, 
she changed her views on grounds satisfactory to 
her own mind, and no hinderance was placed in the 
way of her acting according to her convictions. As 
we reflect upon this remarkable incident the question 
naturally arises, Were there any special circumstances 
which would explain this singular conduct when every 



58 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

thing around her would seem to lead in a different 
direction ? As her mother and sisters appear to 
have remained true to the community of her father, 
there could be no influence from that quarter tending 
to such a result. Under her parental roof many 
leading Non-Conformist ministers frequently gathered. 
Discussions on Church government no doubt arose; 
probably "lamentations were sometimes heard con- 
cerning the feeble and faithless condition of their 
Churches." To an intelligent and inquisitive child, 
in a home where religion prevailed, all this might 
suggest serious inquiry concerning the cause of these 
lamented evils. Thus stimulated, the girl thought 
for herself, and the result was a complete change 
of views.* 

There is some plausibility in this attempt at a 
solution. But were there not deeper and tenderer 
influences at work? Annesley's house was not only 
the resort of grave and old-established divines, but 
of young and lively students from the Dissenting 
Academy at Stepney. Among them was Samuel 
Wesley, a sprightly, intelligent youth, whose after- 
life became closely linked with that of Susanna 
Annesley. His attention was directed to this very 
controversy, and with precisely the same results. 
He renounced Non- Conformity for the forms and min- 
istry of the Establishment. His act of renunciation 
occurred in 1683, when the subject of our memoir 
was only a little more than thirteen. The change 

* Christian Miscellany, 1863, p. 5. 



GIRLHOOD. 59 

was, therefore, going on in both minds at the same 
time, and their conversions were all but cotempora- 
neous. Were these young people on such intimate 
terms that Samuel confided his doubts to Susanna? 
In another and far more important matter we have 
seen that young Wesley's influence led her to aban- 
don her dangerous leanings to heretical principles in 
doctrine. Why might not that same influence work 
with equal potency in a question of Church economy? 
It is certain that they were well acquainted; that 
Wesley was a visitor at the house when the change 
took place; and that their early friendship, never 
broken off, ripened into love, and led to their happy 
marriage in half a dozen years. Is this the cause, 
hitherto hidden, which led to this decisive change 
at so early a period? If not, the real influences 
operating to produce these results will probably re- 
main in secret. 

We must now direct attention to a different topic, 
and look for a moment at the casket in which the 
precious gems of this clear intellect and noble heart 
were enshrined. The Annesley daughters are gen- 
erally reputed to have possessed fair claims to be 
called beautiful. When Dunton strolled into the 
meeting-house in Little Saint Helen's one Sabbath 
morning he says: "Instead of engaging my atten- 
tion to what the Doctor said, I suffered both my 
mind and my eyes to run at random. I soon singled 
out a young lady that almost charmed me mad." 
This was one of Annesley's daughters. She hap- 



60 THE MOTHEB OF THE WESLEYS. 

pened, however, to be " pre-engaged." But the 
smitten lover found his new-born affection easily 
transferable, and successfully wooed her eldest sister. 
He has left us a minute description of his " fair Iris," 
and as the only pen-and-ink sketch of any of the 
Annesley family we- possess it is worth inserting. 
"Iris is tall; of good aspect; her hair of a light 
chestnut color; dark eyes; her eyebrows dark and 
even; her mouth little and sufficiently sweet; her 
air something melancholy, sweet, and agreeable; her 
neck long and graceful ; white hands ; a well-shaped 
body; her complexion very fair. But to hasten to 
that which I think most deserves commendation — I 
mean her piety, which, considering her youth, can 
scarce be paralleled. Her wit is solid; she has 
enough of that quick wit, so much in fashion, to 
render her conversation very desirable. She is 
severely modest, and has all kinds of virtues. She 
never yet, I dare venture to say, gave any one an 
ill word when absent; never when present commends 
them. Her humor is good to a miracle. She is an 
agreeable acquaintance — a trusty friend ; and, to 
conclude, she is pleasant, witty, and virtuous, and is 
mistress of all those graces that can be desired to 
make a complete woman." 

If we regard this tender portraiture as life-like, 
Elizabeth Annesley was indeed fair, beautiful, accom- 
plished, and good — qualities which have all been 
claimed, and with some show of reason, for her 
youngest sister. "She was not only graceful, but 



GIRLHOOD. 61 

beautiful in person," says Clarke. " Her sister 
Judith, painted by Sir Peter Lely, is represented 
as a very beautiful woman. One who well knew 
both said, 'Beautiful as Miss Annesley appears, she 
was far from being so beautiful as Mrs. Wesley.' " 
This description of the admiring Doctor has been 
far outdone by a transatlantic historian, who writes 
after the following fashion: "A portrait of Susanna 
Wesley, taken at a later date than her marriage, 
but evidently while she was still young, affords us a 
picture of the refined and even elegant lady of the 
times. The features are slight, but almost classical 
in their regularity; they are thoroughly Wesleyan, 
affording proof that John Wesley inherited from his 
mother not only his best moral and intellectual traits, 
but those also of his physiognomy. Her dress and 
coiffure are in the simplest style of her day, and the 
entire picture is marked by chaste gracefulness. It 
lacks not also an air of that high-bred aristocracy 
from which she was descended."* 

This is certainly very definite and glowing. The 
historian has minutely studied the portrait on which 
he gazed with so much emotion. We allow that it is 
"a picture of the refined and even elegant lady of 
the times;" but much of the fascinating illusion is 
dispelled by the doubt that rests on the authenticity 
of the portrait on which the description is based — 
a doubt that seems even to be strengthened by the 
portrait itself. It may not lack " an air of high-bred 

* Stevens's " History of Methodism," Book I, chap. ii. 



62 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

aristocracy;" but as to the " thoroughly Wesleyan 
features," it seems impossible to discover the calm, 
intellectual face of the Ep worth family. The state of 
the case is, there are two portraits of Mrs. Wesley, 
both of which have been published, and both of them 
just now claiming to be genuine : the one taken in com- 
paratively early life, and which is not satisfactorily 
authenticated; the other in extreme old age. But 
neither of them conveys the idea of what are com- 
monly styled very beautiful features. Our impression 
is that, while Susanna Wesley excelled her sisters in 
strength of mind and extent of solid attainments, 
she was probably not their equal in the graces of 
personal attraction. We believe she lacked also their 
well-known hilarity and wit, and was more grave and 
thoughtful than the rest of the Annesley daughters. 
Her figure was probably slight; her stature about 
the average female hight; her features good rather 
than beautiful, bearing more vividly traces of deep 
thought and grave contemplation than of vivacity 
or sparkling wit. The Wesley face seems to us to 
be truly Wesleyan, derived, in its leading features, 
far more from the father than the mother. 

But enough of these speculations. "Favor is de- 
ceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman that feareth 
the Lord she shall be praised." And this supreme 
excellency Susanna Wesley richly possessed. The 
religious households of those times were indeed 
schools of piety and nurseries of the Church. The 
whole domestic life was often, in an eminent degree, 



GIRLHOOD. 63 

imbued and regulated by a devout and earnest god- 
liness. How beautiful is the following description 
of the family life of Sir Thomas Abney in the noble 
old mansion where Isaac Watts so long found a home, 
and dear to our own memory as the place where for 
a considerable time we studied to prepare ourselves 
for the office and work of the ministry ! " The Lord's 
day he strictly observed and sanctified. God was 
solemnly sought and worshiped both before and after 
the family's attendance on public ordinances. The 
repetition of sermons, the reading of good books, 
the instruction of the household, and the singing of 
the Divine praises together were much of the several 
employments of the holy day: variety .and brevity 
making the whole not burdensome but pleasant, leav- 
ing at the same time room for the devotions of the 
closet, as well as for intervening works of necessity 
and mercy. Persons coming into such a family with 
a serious tincture of mind might well cry out, { This 
is none other than the house of God; this is the 
gate of heaven !' Besides the ordinary and stated 
services of religion, occasional calls and seasons for 
worship were much regarded. In signal family mer- 
cies and afflictions, in going journeys, in undertaking 
and accomplishing matters of great moment. God was 
especially owned by prayer and thanksgiving — the 
assistance of ministers being often called in on such 
occasions. Through the whole course of his life he 
was priest of his own family, except when a minister 
happened to be present." 



64 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

A similar refuge of religion and domestic happi- 
ness was the house of Susanna Wesley's childhood. 
" I can look back with joy," said her eldest sister 
as she neared the grave, " on some of the early years 
that I sweetly spent in my father's house, and how 
I comfortably lived there. what a mercy is it to 
be dedicated to God betimes !" And Susanna herself 
fails not to tell us, that she was " early initiated and 
instructed in the first principles of the Christian re- 
ligion ;" and had a " good example in parents, and 
in several of the family." These privileges she duly 
improved for her spiritual welfare. In childhood she 
" received from the heart the form of doctrine " de- 
livered from her saintly father's lips. The bright 
domestic examples she loved to imitate ; and while 
yet young she consecrated her service unto the Lord. 
^From the first, hers was a religion of enlightened 
principle, rather than transient emotion. Rigid in- 
deed was the care she exercised over herself, lest she 
should become absorbed in childish sports, or mere 
worldly pastimes. " I will tell you," she writes to 
her son, " what rule I observed in the same case 
when I was young, and too much addicted to child- 
ish diversions, which was this — never to spend more 
time in any matter of mere recreation in one day 
than I spent in private religious duties." Precious 
rule ! Who among the young observe it now ? This 
one passage foreshadows the grand principles upon 
which this . devout woman " fashioned " her entire 
life. 



GIRLHOOD. 65 

This is the history of Susanna Wesley's early 
years, as far as they can be traced. These are our 
impressions of her as she appeared in her father's 
house : 

" Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, 
In every gesture dignity and love." 

Her religious life will form the subject of a later 
chapter. But as we now contemplate her, she stands 
forth, at the age of nineteen, with attractive features 
and graceful form ; an intellect keen and penetrating ; 
a highly- disciplined and well-stored mind ; a judg- 
ment calm and clear; a heart strong, though not 
demonstrative, in its affections, or peculiarly intense 
in its emotions ; a " zealous Church-woman, yet rich 
in a dowry of Non-Conforming virtues ;" and over 
all, as her brightest adorning, " the beauties of holi- 
ness " clothing her " with salvation as with a gar- 
ment." 

" Not perfect — nay — but full of tender wants ; 
No angel, but a dearer being, all dipt 
In angel instincts, breathing Paradise ; 

Who look'd all native to her place, and yet 
On tiptoe seem'd to touch upon a sphere 
Too great to tread." 

Surely she is a maiden worthy the most princely 
spirit that may woo her hand and win her heart ! 
And such a meet companion Providence had in store 
for her in the noble-hearted and intelligent Samuel 
Wesley. 



66 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

We are not wishful to interlay our narrative with 
a series of sermonic addresses. But we can not fin- 
ish the present chapter without a few words to one 
particular class of readers. Are these pages passing 
under the eye of any fair and accomplished young 
lady not decidedly religious ; whose heart has not yet 
yielded to the claims of Christ; whose life is not a 
life of holy obedience to the Divine will ? Allow me, 
my dear young friend, to press immediate decision 
on this vital matter upon your attention. Ponder, I 
beseech you, your solemn duties and responsibilities. 
Meditate upon 'the pattern of womanly excellence 
which these pages exhibit for your example and en- 
couragement in well-doing. The Gospel is the only 
religion in the world which exalts and adorns the 
female character ; which places woman in her proper 
position as the friend and companion of man, as an 
heir of the same destiny ; one with him in the com- 
mon Savior, and equally interested in the great bless- 
ings of redemption and salvation. All these collat- 
• eral and secondary benefits of the Gospel you richly 
share and highly prize. But, 0, you are living with- 
out the more glorious and essential privileges which' 
that Gospel offers. It calls you to repentance, faith, 
and holiness. It offers you the enjoyment of con- 
scious forgiveness, and elevated fellowship with God. 
It holds out to you a preparation for heaven ; a 
happy and triumphant death ; " an abundant entrance 
into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior 
Jesus Christ." 



GIRLHOOD. 67 

Yet, these things you are disregarding. You are 
living "without God," and have no hope of heaven. 
0, " acquaint now thyself with Him and be at peace; 
and thereby good shall come unto thee." " How 
long halt ye between two opinions V 9 Your time for 
decision is now, and not at a future day. Compared 
with the claims, privileges, and duties of personal 
godliness, every thing is trifling and insignificant. 
Graceful form, beauty, rank, domestic pleasure, all 
"fade as a leaf." They vanish as the mist before 
the morning sun. Religion only abideth forever. 
Trust not, then, in vanity. Pursue shadows no longer. 
Be not satisfied till the graces which naturally adorn 
your sex are, in your case, found in beautiful combi- 
nation with the " grace " which surely " bringeth sal- 
vation.''' 

seek after this " hid treasure ;" secure this " one 
thing needful ;" secure it now. By a hearty repent- 
ance and true faith in the merit of your Savior's 
atonement, accept the offered gift of pardon and ho- 
liness. Why should you longer delay ? " Behold, 
now is the accepted time. Behold, now is the day 
of salvation." Yield now to your convictions of 
conscience, and the gentle strivings of the Holy 
Spirit which you have so long endeavored to resist 
and silence. Draw near to Him who now draws near 
to you. " Hearken, daughter, and consider, and 
incline thine ear; forget also thine own people and 
thy father's house ; so shall the King greatly desire 
thy beauty; for he is thy Lord; and worship thou 



68 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

him." From the depth of your penitent and yielding 
heart, offer this one solemn prayer : 

" O never in these vails of shame, 

Sad fruits of sin, my glorying be ! 
Clothe with salvation, through Thy name, 

My soul, and let me put on Thee ! 
Be living faith my costly dress, 
And my best robe, Thy righteousness ! 

Send down Thy likeness from above, 

And let this my adorning be ! 
Clothe me with wisdom, patience, love, 

With lowliness, and purity, 
Than gold and pearls more precious far, 
And brighter than the morning star I" 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 69 



III. 

FUTURE HUSBAND. 

He was a faithful man, and feared God above many. 

Book of Nehemiah. 

The Wesley family is commonly supposed to have 
been ancient and respectable. The later members of 
it believed that their progenitors came from Saxony, 
and that slips of the paternal tree were planted al- 
most simultaneously in England and Ireland. Clarke, 
with his usual love of tracing every thing to an Ori- 
ental origin, finds the etymon of the name in an 
Arabic word which signifies " union or conjunction ;" 
and favors the idea that the Wesleys came from 
Spain, " where multitudes of Arab families were long 
settled." He also supposes that some of them were 
among the fiery Crusaders, or had been on pilgrim- 
age to Palestine, because they " bore the escallop 
shell in their arms." 

We have no wish to conduct our readers through 
all these labyrinths of conjecture, as no satisfactory 
results could be gained. From whatever quarter the 
Wesley family originally came, whether descended 
from Asiatic, Spanish, or Saxon ancestry, or whether, 
as we are disposed to believe, they belonged to our 



70 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

own favored isle — deriving their name from some 
local scene or circumstance — it is clear that the 
branch of the family with which we have to do was 
long settled in Dorsetshire. They were eminent for 
their learning, piety, and self-sacrificing adherence 
to what they believed to be the true doctrines and 
principles of Christianity. 

The first in the direct ancestral line of whom we 
have any knowledge, is Bartholomew Westley, great 
grandfather of the founder of Methodism. Born, 
probably, in the last year of the sixteenth century, 
and educated at Oxford, where, like many other men 
of his time, he studied medicine as well as divinity, 
he came upon the stage of public life just when vio- 
lent ecclesiastical tempests were lowering over the 
Churches of this country. As the vicar of Char- 
mouth and Catherston, villages in the south-western 
extremity of Dorset, he discharged his sacred duties 
with becoming diligence and fidelity, using a " pe- 
culiar plainness of speech which hindered his being 
an acceptable popular preacher." Driven from his 
living immediately after the Restoration, he practiced 
medicine for a livelihood; preaching whenever a safe 
opportunity presented itself; and honored for his 
blameless character, sincere piety, and many domes- 
tic virtues. The place of his birth ; the character of 
his boyhood; the home and changing scenes of his 
declining years ; the spot wjiere he found a grave to 
hide him from the fiery trials through which he had 
passed, are buried in oblivion. " He lived several 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 71 

years after he was silenced," says Calamy ; " but the 
death of his son " — the only member of his family 
of whom we have any account — " made a sensible 
alteration in him ; so that he afterward declined 
apace, and did not long survive him." 

The son, whose death so deeply affected his father's 
heart, rises before us as one of the most lovely char- 
acters of those remarkable times. The circumstances 
and sufferings of his life justly entitle him to a fore- 
most place among the worthiest confessors of early 
Non-Conformity. Educated with the greatest relig- 
ious care, he had a very humbling sense of sin and 
a serious concern for salvation," even while a school- 
boy. When at Oxford, where Thomas Goodwin had 
formed "a Gathered Church" among, the collegians, 
he was distinguished for his piety. This is no com- 
mon praise, when we remember that he was sur- 
rounded by such students as Howe, Charnock, and 
others of no small note. His proficiency in learning, 
especially in the Oriental tongues, attracted the at- 
tention and won the esteem of John Owen, then 
Vice-Chancellor of the University. 

Returning to his native neighborhood, he joined 
the " Gathered Church " at Melcombe, and began to 
preach, exercising his gifts among Iris own people, 
the villagers of Radipole, and the hardy sailors along 
the shore. Recommended to the work of the minis- 
try by his own Church, after much fasting and 
prayer, and approved by the ecclesiastical examiners, 
he received the living of Winterbourn Whitchurch, 



72 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

in 1658, worth about thirty pounds a year. Having 
married a daughter of John White, " sometime Chair- 
man of the Assembly of Divines," he was " necessi- 
tated to set up a school, that he might be able to 
maintain his growing family." He exercised a rigid 
supervision over his own soul. His Diary — would it 
had been preserved ! — " not only recorded the re- 
markable events of Providence, which affected his 
outward man, but, more especially, the methods of 
the Spirit of grace in his dealings with his soul ; the 
frame of his heart in his attendance on the ordinances 
of the Gospel ; and how he found himself affected 
under the various methods of Divine Providence, 
whether merciful or afflictive." 

The dark clouds now gathered over this devout 
and hard-working pastor. A succession of storms 
discharged their violence upon his head. Base in- 
formers brought false and scandalous accusations 
against him, and secured his imprisonment for six 
months, without a trial. An unbending Independent 
in his ecclesiastical principles, his refusal to read the 
Book of Common Prayer led to new troubles. There 
was a long interview with his diocesan, in which he 
displayed a scholarship, logic, and Christian temper 
which we can not fail to admire. Then came the 
Act of Uniformity, and on the memorable seven- 
teenth of August, 1662, he preached an impressive 
farewell sermon "to a weeping audience " from that 
most appropriate of all texts, "And now, brethren, 
I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 73 

which is able to build you up, and to give you an 
inheritance among them that are sanctified." After 
lingering a few months in his old parish, during 
which time his son Samuel was born, and baptized in 
the church from which his father had so recently 
been "thrust out," he retired to Weymouth. The 
landlady who gave him shelter was fined twenty 
pounds for the offense; while he was commanded to 
pay five shillings a week, " to be levied by distress." 
He wandered to Bridgewater, Uminster, and Taunton, 
where " he met with great kindness and friendship 
from all three denominations of Dissenters, who were 
afterward very kind to him and his numerous family." 
Then " a gentleman who had a very good house at 
Preston, two or three miles from Melcombe, gave him 
free liberty to live in it without paying any rent." 
He accepted this unlooked-for kindness as a marked 
interposition of Providence, wondering how it came 
to pass, " that he who had forfeited all the mercies 
of life should have any habitation at all, when other 
precious saints were destitute ;" and that he should 
have " such an house of abode while others had only 
poor mean cottages." 

Then came terrible temptations about fulfilling his 
call to preach the Gospel. Silenced at home, he 
meditated a "removal beyond sea, either to Mary- 
land or Surinam. After much consideration and ad- 
vice, he determined to abide in the land of his nativ- 
ity, and there take his lot." Preaching only in 

private, he kept himself longer out of the hands of 

7 



74 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

his enemies than many of his brethren. But, " not- 
withstanding all his prudence in managing his meet- 
ings, he was often disturbed; several times appre- 
hended ; and four times cast into prison." In his 
"many straits and difficulties" he was "wonderfully 
supported and comforted, and many times surpris- 
ingly relieved and delivered." Finally, he was 
" called by a number of serious Christians at Poole 
to be their pastor ; and in that relation he continued 
to the day of his death, administering all ordinances 
to them as opportunity offered." 

His manifold and heavy trials — all the result of 
his unflinching adherence to the testimony which he 
held — soon prepared him for an early grave. " The 
removal of many eminent Christians into another 
world, who were his intimate acquaintance and kind 
friends ; the great decay of serious religion among 
many that made a profession; and the increasing 
rage of the enemies of real godliness, manifestly 
seized and sunk his spirits. And having filled up 
his part of what is behind of the afflictions of Christ 
in the flesh, for his body's sake, which is the Church, 
and finished the work given him to do, he was taken 
out of this vale of tears to that world where the 
wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at 
rest, when he had not been much longer an inhabit- 
ant here below than his blessed Master, whom he 
served with his whole heart, according to the best 
light he had." Denied sepulture within the walls of 
the sacred edifice, his remains lie .undistinguished 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 75 

among the common graves of the church-yard. In that 
day when the " many that sleep in the dust of the 
earth shall awake," John Westley shall "come forth 
unto everlasting life ;" while many of his persecutors 
shall arise to " shame and everlasting contempt." 

Of this saintly man's "numerous family," the 
greater part probably died young. The names of 
four only have been preserved — Timothy, Elizabeth, 
Samuel, and Matthew ; and of these there are only 
two of whom w r e have any account. 

Matthew was educated for the medical profession, 
and rose to considerable eminence in his calling. He 
settled in London, where he obtained a very extens- 
ive and lucrative practice. When admitted into 
Dunton's Athenian Society, he was announced as " a 
civilian, doctor of physic, and a chirurgeon," a 
"learned, good, and ingenious man, and so gener- 
ous " that he could never be persuaded to receive 
any remuneration for his contributions to the famous 
" Athenian Gazette." Clever, witty, and somewhat 
cynical, he occasionally made himself merry with 
matters which ought always to be treated with sober- 
ness. When his nephew Charles was dining with 
him one day, "he bestowed abundance of wit" upon 
John Wesley's " apostolical project," declaring that 
when the French found " any remarkably dull fellow 
among them, they sent him to convert the Indians." 
Charles checked his raillery by repeating, 

" To distant lands the apostles need not roam, 
Darkness, alas ! and heathens are at home," 



76 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

and heard no more about his " brother's apos- 
tleship." 

In 1731 he visited the Wesley family at Epworth. 
The arrival of a wealthy relative from London at the 
poverty-stricken parsonage was a wonderful event, 
and excited great curiosity among the rustic parish- 
ioners. " It was odd," says Mrs. Wesley, " to ob- 
serve how all the town took the alarm and were 
upon the gaze, as if some great prince had been about 
to make an entry." The first two days the visitor 
was very stately and reserved, narrowly watching the 
conduct of the children, and scrutinizing the general 
condition of things around him. Then he began to 
thaw ; chatted freely with the girls, " who told him 
every thing " — as girls usually do ; and held frequent 
conversations with Mrs. Wesley. Toward his brother 
he was very courteous, but equally shy. The wealthy 
physician looked with amazement upon the miserable 
furniture and the mean attire of the poor country 
parson's daughters. Having only one child of his 
own — and he, alas, turned out a most dissipated man, 
and a disgrace to his noble family name — he could 
not understand how his brother, with a " numerous 
offspring " and a stinted income, happened to be in 
such straits as not to provide better for his house- 
hold, and lay up something for his children after his 
decease ! Full of these thoughts, he returned to 
London and penned a letter, abounding in stinging 
reflections and sweeping censures. He declared that 
the rector had long enjoyed "-a plentiful estate," and 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 77 

" great and generous benefactions," without providing 
for those of his own house. " This," writes the man 
of wealth, " I think a black account. I hope Provi- 
dence has restored you again to give you time to 
settle this balance, which shocks me to think of. To 
this end I must advise you to be frequent in your 
perusal of Father Beveridge on Repentance, and 
Doctor Tillotson on Restitution; for it is not saying, 
' Lord ! Lord ! ' will bring us to the kingdom of 
heaven, but doing justice to all our fellow-creatures ; 
and not a poetical imagination that we do so." 

This solitary outburst of irritation, however, did not 
prevent the full play of his strong natural affection. 
He took two or three of his nieces to reside with 
him when they were young; educated them at his 
own expense; and provided them with suitable mar- 
riage portions. Hetty was a special favorite. He 
watched over her delicate health with tenderest care; 
made her his chosen companion during his weeks of 
leisure and recreation ; and did much to develop the 
beautiful qualities of her mind. Hear her own sweet 
testimony : 

" 'T was owing to his friendly care 
I breathed at ease the rural air, 
Her ample bounds where Eeading spreads, 
Where Kennet winds along the meads, 
Where Thompson the retreat approves, 
By streams refresh'd and gloom'd with groves, 
Where, from Cadogan's lofty seat, 
Our view surrounding landscapes meet: 
'T was there he made my leisure blest, 
There waked the muse within my breast." 



78 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

Some of his relatives supposed him to be skeptic- 
ally inclined on the subject of religion. There is, 
however, good reason to believe that he never cast 
off his Christian profession, but continued a strict 
Non- Conformist to the end of his days. During his 
visit to Epworth "he always behaved himself very 
decently at family prayers," writes Mrs. Wesley; 
" and, in your father's absence, said grace for us 
before and after meat. Nor did he ever interrupt 
our privacy, but went into his own chamber when 
w T e went into ours." "He was exemplarily moral in 
his words and actions, esteeming religion, but never 
talking of its mysteries." After a long illness his 
nephew, Charles, found him dying, in June, 1737. 
" He pressed my hand, showed much natural affection, 
and bade me give his love to his sister." He met 
the last enemy with great calmness. All fear was 
taken away, and with his head reclining on the bosom 
of his favorite and affectionate niece he breathed his 
last. Hetty mourned his loss in strains of great 
tenderness and beauty: 

"How can the muse attempt the string, 

Forsaken hy her guardian power? 
Ah me ! that she survives to sing 

Her friend and patron, now no more ! 
Yet private grief she might suppress, 

Since Clio bears no selfish mind ; 
But, 0, she mourns to wild excess 

The friend and patron of mankind 1 
Alas ! the sovereign healing art, 

Which rescued thousands from the grave, 
Unaided left the gentlest heart, 

Nor coujid its skillful master save. 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 79 

Who shall the helpless sex sustain 

Now Varro's lenient hand is gone, 
Which knew so well to soften pain, 

And ward all danger hut his own ? 
His darling muse, his Clio dear, 

Whom first his favor raised to fame, 
His gentle voice vouchsafed to cheer, 

His art upheld her tender frame. 
Pale Envy durst not show her teeth ; 

Above Contempt she gayly shone 
Chief favorite, till the hand of Death 

Endanger'd both by striking one. 
Perceiving well, devoid of fear, 

His latest fatal conflict nigh ; 
Reclined on her he held most dear, 

Whose breast received his parting sigh. 
With every art and grace adorn'd, 

By man admired, by Heaven approved, 
Good Yarro died — applauded, mourn'd, 

And honor'd by the muse he loved." 

Concerning Samuel Westley, the other son of the 
persecuted vicar of Whitchurch, and the future hus- 
band of Susanna Annesley, our information is more 
ample, and our sketch must be more minute and 
extended. Without discussing the conflicting state- 
ments about the time and place of his birth, we 
regard the entry of the baptism of " Samuel, son 
of John Westley," on the 17th of December, 1662, 
still preserved in the parish register of Whitchurch, 
as decisive that he was born in that town in the 
preceding November, a few months after his father 
was ejected from the living. 

His father dying while Samuel was receiving his 
grammar learning at the Dorchester Free School, 
" and nearly ready for the University," some Dis- 



80 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

senting friends, without his "mother's application or 
charges," sent the youth to London to be entered at 
one of their private academies as a candidate for 
the Non-Conformist ministry. Reaching town on the 
8th of March, 1678, he found that Doctor G., who 
"had the care of one of the most considerable of 
those seminaries," and who had promised him his 
tuition free of charge, had recently died. He went 
for a time to a grammar school, the master of which 
provided for him a handsome subsistence at the Uni- 
versity, and urged him to graduate there. But the 
Dissenters offering his relations greater advantages 
in the provision of thirty pounds a year, he was 
sent to the Stepney Academy, then under the care 
of the Rev. Edward Veal, "a learned, orthodox min- 
ister, of a sober, pious, and peaceable conversation," 
and " eminently useful for the instruction of youth." 
Deprived of his fellowship in Trinity College, Dublin, 
"for non- conformity to the ceremonies imposed in the 
Church, and for joining with other ministers in their 
endeavors for a reformation," he settled at Wapping, 
where he "had several pupils to whom he read 
University learning." 

While prosecuting his studies in this neighborhood, 
Wesley had the privilege of listening to many of the 
most able Non- Conformist ministers, whose sermons 
he was accustomed carefully to write out. He was a 
frequent hearer of the great and good Stephen Char- 
nock; and once he listened to the inimitable allegorist, 
whom he playfully designates ',' Friend Bunyan." 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 81 

The feeling against the Church of England fostered 
among these Dissenting students at Stepney was ex- 
ceedingly strong; and young Wesley, smart, clever, 
and self-reliant, was an apt pupil in this as in most 
other things. With some pretensions to poetic power, 
he soon became "a dabbler in rhyme and faction," 
and was unwisely employed by his superiors to write 
sarcastic pieces upon Church and State. Some of 
the gravest and most learned ministers sent for him, 
suggested subjects, furnished matter, and occasionally 
encouraged him with something more tangible than 
words in his "silly lampoons." Some of them even 
transcribed his writings, " and several of them revised 
and corrected them before they were printed." 

Prosecuted by the neighboring justices, Veal was 
obliged to "break up his house" and relinquish 
his tutorial duties. Wesley, who had been with 
him two years, was then recommended to a similar 
establishment at Newington Green, conducted by the 
Rev. Charles Morton, "an ingenious and universally- 
learned man, but his chiefest excellency lay in mathe- 
matics." During his four years' academic career, 
Wesley made great proficiency in learning, and lived 
a life of strict uprightness and morality. But there 
was an entire lack of every thing like deep experi- 
mental religion. His temper was irritable; his dis- 
position unforgiving, or, in his own words, " too keen 
and revengeful" — a spirit utterly alien to that which 
ought to animate the breast of a youth preparing 
himself for the Christian ministry. Surrounding 



82 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

circumstances probably had something to do with 
this unamiable temper. He became more and more 
dissatisfied with his position, and resolved to re- 
nounce it. 

" Being a young man of spirit," writes his son 
John, " he was pitched upon to answer some severe 
invectives " recently published against the Dissenters. 
During the preparation for this assigned task he saw 
reason to change his opinions, and instead of writing 
the proposed answer, he " renounced the Dissenters 
and attached himself to the Established Church." 
His own account differs slightly from this, yet may 
be perfectly compatible with it. When he had been 
two years at Newington Green, he began to make 
closer observations upon things around him. The 
more he reflected on the political principles and con- 
versation prevalent among his fellow-students, the 
more he disliked them, and doubted whether he " was 
in the right." He was also intimate with "two rev- 
erend and worthy " relatives. One of these visited 
him at Morton's seminary, and " gave him such ar- 
guments against that schism with which he was then 
embarked, as added weight to his reflections when he 
began to think of leaving it." The arrangements 
for his education for the Dissenting ministry were 
made for him when quite a youth, and probably with- 
out any consideration or consent on his part. He 
had been twice hindered from going to the Univers- 
ity, for which he had evidently a strong inclination. 
And when all these circumstances are fairly consid- 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 83 

ered, we need not be surprised at the change. The 
Dissenters had been kind and generous to him as a 
poor fatherless boy, dependent upon a widowed 
mother in straitened circumstances ; and though, in 
the heat of controversy, he afterward spoke of his 
old friends with too much asperity, he did not leave 
them in any dishonorable way. Out of a legacy, 
which just then came into his hands, he paid the 
principal of the academy his just due, and discharged 
every farthing of the few unimportant debts he had 
contracted among his associates. 

Living at the time with his mother and an aged 
aunt, both too strongly wedded to Dissenting princi- 
ples to bear with patience the disclosure of his inten- 
tions, he rose betimes one August morning in 1683, 
walked all the way to Oxford, and entered himself 
as " a servitor of Exeter College." With only forty- 
five shillings in his pocket and no hope of any sup- 
plies from home, his financial prospects were not the 
most promising. But he nobly braced himself for his 
task. By rendering help to others, and by the efforts 
of his pen, for which Dunton " gave him as much as 
he could afford," he closed his University career w T ith 
a purse five times heavier than he carried with him 
to this ancient and honorable seat of learning. 

We have only a solitary but most refreshing 
glimpse of his extra-college movements at Oxford. 
He was not insensible to the obligations resting upon 
him to do good ; and the first ray of Qhristian activ- 
ity which he sent forth shone upon them who "sat 



84 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

in darkness and in the shadow of death." Calling 
up reminiscences of his own early efforts for the 
spiritual welfare of the prisoners, he writes to his 
sons, who, in after years, pursued the same benevo- 
lent course : " Go on, in God's name, in the path 
your Savior has directed you, and that track wherein 
your father has gone before you ; for when I was an 
undergraduate at Oxford, I visited them in the castle 
there, and reflect on it with great satisfaction to this 
day." As we look at him in these holy toils, the 
words of quaint old Fuller rise to the mind : " Thus 
was the prison his first parish; his own charity, his 
patron presenting him to it; and his work was all 
his wages." 

Returning to London, he was " initiated in deacon's 
orders by the Bishop of Rochester, at his palace of 
Bromley, August the seventeenth, 1688; and on the 
twenty-sixth of February following was ordained 
priest in Saint Andrew's Church, Holborn." It is 
generally allowed that, by the party with whom he 
had allied himself, both in secular and ecclesiastical 
politics, Wesley was regarded as a young man of 
superior merit, whose active cooperation it was de- 
sirable to secure in the furtherance of their measures. 
His biographers, with a solitary exception, and all 
the historians of Methodism record with evident de- 
light, that the Court party solicited him to preach in 
favor of James's celebrated Declaration, and seconded 
their request with promises of speedy and high pre- 
ferment. But the young minister, proof against this 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 85 

seductive influence, "rose in bold resistance to the 
daring aggression on Gospel liberty which the schemes 
of the Court involved." Surrounded by a congrega- 
tion of soldiers, courtesans, and noble families not a 
few, all-eager to hear his arguments in favor of the 
King's proceedings, he read out for his text : " If it 
be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver 
us from the fiery furnace, and he will deliver us 
out of thy hand, King ! But if not, be it known 
unto thee, King, that we will not serve thy gods, 
nor worship the golden image which thou hast set 
up." He not only refused to read the Declaration, 
but delivered a bold and masterly discourse against 
it. The effect was most remarkable : 

" Resistless truth damp'd all the audience round, 
The base informer sicken'd at the sound ; 
Attentive courtiers, conscious, stood amazed, 
And soldiers, silent, trembled as they gazed ; 
No smallest murmur of distaste arose ; 
Abash'd and vanquish'd seem'd the Church's foes." 

More than once have we heard the incident elo- 
quently described in popular lectures, and hailed 
with loud and repeated cheers. Even Macaulay, with 
all his marvelous accuracy, has recorded it as a fact. 
We are sorry to dissipate so pleasant an illusion ; 
but in relation to Samuel Wesley, the story is en- 
tirely without foundation. It rests solely on the 
authority of the poem we have just quoted. Writ- 
ten by the younger Wesley, and beginning, 

" Accept, dear Sire, this humble tribute paid, 
This small memorial, to a parent's shade," 



86 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

it has been concluded that it refers to the poet's 
own father. The poem describes a scene of domestic 
plenty and hospitality strangely foreign to all we 
read of the discomforts of the Epworth rectory. It 
was written " upon a clergyman lately deceased " — 
the Rev. John Berry, the poet's father-in-law — and 
published four years before the death of Samuel 
Wesley. It could, therefore, have no reference to 
him. Besides, the Declaration of James was ordered 
to be read in the churches in May, 1688; and as 
Wesley was not ordained till August of that year, 
he was not in holy orders at the time, and could not, 
therefore, preach against the measures of the King. 
But from all we know of his fearless opposition to 
every movement in favor of Popery, we can easily 
believe that, had Wesley been placed in the circum- 
stances referred to, he would not have hesitated to 
pursue a course like that which the poem describes. 
He was no supporter of the policy of James the 
Second. While a student at Oxford, he had divined 
the King's character, and resolved on his own course. 
James visited the University and called the master 
and fellows of Magdalen College to account for not 
electing his nominee as their president. When they 
appeared before him, he lectured them after a most 
unkingly fashion : " You have not dealt with me 
like gentlemen. You have been unmannerly as well 
as undutiful. Is this your Church-of-England loy- 
alty ? I could not have believed that so many cler- 
gymen of the Church of England would have been 



FUTURE HUSBAND. 87 

concerned in such a business. Go home ! Get you 
gone! I am King; I will be obeyed. Go to your 
chapel this instant ; and admit the Bishop of Oxford. 
Let those who refuse look to it. They shall feel the 
whole weight of my hand. They shall know what it 
is to incur the displeasure of their Sovereign." They 
offered him their petition. He angrily flung it down. 
" Get you gone, I tell you. I will receive nothing 
from you till you have admitted the Bishop." Young 
Wesley witnessed this unseemly exhibition, and years 
afterward he wrote : " When I heard him say to the 
master and fellows of Magdalen College, lifting up 
his lean arm, ' If you refuse to obey me, you shall 
feel the weight of a King's right hand,' I saw he was 
a tyrant. And though I was not inclined to take an 
active part against him, I was resolved from that 
time to give him no kind of support." 

Of course Wesley hailed the Revolution as a grand 
deliverance from tyranny and Popery; and it is a 
fact worth recording, that 

" This Briton's pen first pleaded William's cause, 
And pleaded strongly for our faith and laws." 

He " wrote and printed the first thing that appeared 
in defense of the Government, after the accession " 
of William and Mary. Besides this work, probably 
a pamphlet, in " answer to a speech without doors," 
he " wrote a great many little pieces more, both in 
prose and verse, with the same view." These serv- 
ices did not meet with any magnificent returns from 



88 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

the royal hand. But although Mary, " according to 
her true judgment, did by no means think it fit" to 
confer upon him an Irish Bishopric, when recom- 
mended by the Marquis of Normanby, she cherished 
for him a kindly regard; accepted the dedication of 
his "Life of Christ;" and had she not soon after 
been taken away, he would have received some more 
substantial favor at her hands. 

When this young High-Church clergyman had 
served a London curacy for one year he was made 
chaplain to a man-of-war. During his cruise "in 
Old Ierne's angry seas ? ' he commenced his curious 
poem on "The Life of our Blessed Lord and Savior 
Jesus Christ." This elaborate heroic — extending to 
nearly eleven thousand lines, with preface, notes, 
and " sixty copper-plates " — was evidently a favorite 
project. He not only gave to it all his leisure time, 
but tells us that, " ere dappled morn had dressed the 
skies," he rose to ply his attractive task. And if 
industry and perseverance were alone necessary to 
success, his poem would have been far more worthy 
of public attention than it now is. 

After twelve months spent in this pleasurable em- 
ployment he returned to London, and the current 
of his after -history naturally blends with that of his 
devoted wife. 



MARRIAGE. 



MAEEIAGE. 

Marriage is not, like the hill Olympus, wholly clear, without 
clouds. Yea, expect both wind and storms sometimes, which when 
blown over the air is the clearer and wholesomer for it. Make 
account of certain cares and troubles which will attend thee. — 
Thomas Fuller. 

An earlier page has intimated that Doctor Annes- 
ley's house was frequently visited by leading Non- 
Conforming pastors of London and the neighborhood. 
But the Doctor's deep interest in the rising ministry 
of his denomination made his home readily accessible 
also to young students passing through their academic 
courses, and equipping themselves for their solemn 
calling. In this way, rather than through the in- 
troduction of any mutual friend, as is commonly 
supposed, Samuel Wesley was welcomed within the 
circle of this interesting family. He was present at 
Dunton's marriage with Elizabeth Annesley in 1682. 
The humorous bridegroom tells us that "as soon as 
dinner was ended an ingenious gentleman, at that 
time a student in the Rev. Mr. Yeal's house," called 
the happy couple out from the company, and pre- 
sented them with an " Epithalamium." The juvenile 
composition is sufficiently wild and ardent, liberally 



90 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

sprinkled with the customary phrases about " little 
Cupids," "golden Hymen," "charming bride," "en- 
vious swains," and "marble-hearted virgins," without 
any trace of religious sentiment or aspiration. A 
few years afterward, when death had stricken down 
the happy bride of that morning, the sorrowing 
widower pressed his early friend "to write an appro- 
priate epitaph. Wesley, who was evidently aware 
of Dunton's weak side, playfully observes in reply : 
"If you please to accept this epitaph it is at your 
service, and I hope it will come before you need 
another epithalamium" 

It ?s clear, then, that the acquaintance of Wesley 
and Susanna Annesley was formed when they were 
both very young. How it ripened into the strong 
and tender passion of mutual love — when the actual 
courtship commenced and how it was carried on — 
whether there were an unbroken correspondence 
during his absence at Oxford and an immediate 
renewal of personal intercourse on his return to 
London — at what church the marriage took place 
and by whom the ceremony was performed — are 
matters on which we have not been able to gain 
the least information. Some time, probably late in 
1689 or early in 1690, the auspicious day arrived, 
and they were solemnly united in holy matrimony, 
according to the rites and ceremonies of the Church 
of England. Dunton tells us that before his marriage 
with Elizabeth Annesley the. good Doctor preached a 
preparatory sermon on "This is a great mystery." 



MARRIAGE. 91 

He showed that "the duties of the married state 
must be performed if the comforts of it be expected ;" 
that "the comforts of marriage have their whole de- 
pendence upon the performance of the duties ;" that 
"the espousals of Christ with his Church are a great 
mystery ;" and that " Christ espousing the Church is 
the best pattern of all Christian marriages." The 
application "was particular, and came home to the 
present case." They ■ were " largely attended to 
church," where the Doctor gave away his daughter, 
which, says Dunton, "I took as a peculiar favor 
from himself, it being more than some of his sons- 
in-law could obtain. When the public ceremony was 
over we returned to niy reverend father-in-law's, 
where the entertainment was plentiful enough, and 
yet gravely suited to the occasion and circumstance." 
And such, in all probability, were the ceremonies and 
festivities, so grave and becoming, which attended the 
marriage of Susanna Annesley. 

Her husband was now a curate on only thirty 
pounds a year. They "boarded" in London and 
the neighborhood, "without going into debt," till the 
Autumn of 1690, when Wesley received his first 
preferment in the Church. About ten miles from 
Horncastle there is the neat little village of South 
Ormsby, wearing that pleasant aspect common to 
most Lincolnshire villages, skirting the parks and 
woodlands surrounding some noble family's country 
mansion. The ancient church, resting on a small emi- 
nence, overlooks the comparatively modern rectory, 



92 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

built on the lower ground adjoining the church-yard. 
The outward aspect is attractive and genial enough, 
and the living now has its temporal comforts in a 
good degree; but in the days of Samuel Wesley the 
income was that of a common porter. As to the 
" rectory," and the noble spirit of its chief inhabitant, 
some idea may be formed from the worthy man's own 
description : 

" In a mean cot, composed of reeds and clay, 
Wasting in sighs the nncomfortable day ; 
Near where the inhospitable Humber roars, 
Devouring by degrees the neighboring shores. 
Let earth go where it will, I '11 not repine, 
Nor can unhappy be while heaven is mine." 

Here, in this miserable den, there were fifty pounds 
a year to live upon, " and one child additional per 
annum." Yet there was no complaining. With true 
parental affection each new-comer was welcomed as 
a gift from God; and noble were the struggles to 
provide bread for the increasing household. While 
the thrifty wife did her best to make things go as 
far as possible, the rector plied his pen with un- 
ceasing diligence. His " Life of Christ," which he 
published while here, his treatise on the Hebrew 
points, and his contributions to Dunton's Athenian 
Oracle, one-third of which he wrote with his own 
hand, helped to keep the wolf from the door for 
seven long years. 

The living had been obtained for him, without any 
solicitation on his own part, -by the Marquis of Nor- 
manby. This nobleman, John Wesley tells us, had 



MARRIAGE. 93 

a house in the neighborhood of the parish, where a 
woman whom he kept generally resided. The dis- 
reputable "lady" insisted on being very friendly and 
on visiting terms with the rector's wife. Such inter- 
course was very distasteful to Mrs. Wesley; but all 
ordinary methods failed to free her from the nuisance. 
Coming in one day and finding this unwelcome visitor 
sitting with his wife, the clergyman unceremoniously 
walked up to her and fairly handed her out of the 
house. " The nobleman resented the affront so out- 
rageously as to make it necessary for my father to 
resign the living." 

We have no reason to dispute the chief statements 
in this incident. It is just what we might expect a 
man of Samuel Wesley's principles and temperament 
to do, and what a noble marquis, in such circum- 
stances, would be very likely to resent. But when 
we find this very nobleman continuing Wesley in 
office as his chaplain, and giving handsome donations 
in after years toward rescuing him from pecuniary 
embarrassment, we can hardly think that the resent- 
ment was so intense and active as to oblige Wesley 
to leave his living. As there appears to have been 
no appreciable interval between the resignation of 
South Ormsby and the removal to Epworth, it is 
most likely that the grant of Epworth was the only 
reason for leaving his first village charge. 

The death of her father, which took place at this 
particular juncture, deeply affected Mrs. Wesley. 
During a severe and long-continued affliction he was 



94 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

perfectly resigned to the Divine will. He charged 
those around him not to entertain hard thoughts of 
God because he suffered so much in his last end. 
"Blessed be God," he exclaimed, "I have been 
faithful in the work of the ministry above fifty-five 
years!" Having enjoyed "uninterrupted peace and 
assurance of God's love for above thirty years last 
past," the holy calm of soul was not broken when 
the waves and billows of death went over his head. 
"I have no doubt, nor shadow of doubt; all is clear 
between God and my soul. He chains up Satan; 
he can not trouble me." His mind had so long been 
filled with thoughts of God and heaven that, even in 
moments of mental wandering, " he still breathed 
the same spirit, and spoke of Divine matters most 
consistently. His head was not free of those projects 
for God which in health it was ever full of." " Come, 
dear Jesus! the nearer, the more precious and the 
more welcome," was a sentence often falling from 
his lips. Then the flood of holy joy so inundated 
his soul that he exclaimed : " I can not contain it ! 
What manner of love is this to a poor worm! I can 
not express a thousandth part of what praise is due 
to thee! We know not what we do when we aim at 
praising God for his mercies ! It is but little I can 
give; but, Lord, help me to give thee my all! I 
will die praising thee, and rejoice that there are 
others that can praise thee better. I shall be satis- 
fied with thy likeness — satisfied — satisfied ! 0, my 
dearest Jesus, I come!" 



MARRIAGE. 95 

"In him," says Williams, in closing his funeral 
sermon, " the world have lost a blessing ; the Church 
have lost a pillar ; the nation have lost a wrestler 
with God; the poor have lost a benefactor; you, 
his people, have lost a faithful pastor; you, his 
children, a tender father; we in the ministry, an ex- 
emplary fellow-laborer." He desired that his remains 
should rest with those of his beloved wife ; and in the 
old register of Saint Leonard's, Shoreditch, for De- 
cember, 1696, we read, " Samuel Annesley was bur- 
ied the seventh day, from Spittle-Yard." He sleeps 
within the walls of that grand, old edifice, but no 
slab or monument marks his precise resting-place. 
The Omniscient Eye observes his dust. His flesh 
resteth in hope ; and could we give it voice it would 
speak in the words of the ancient man of Uz, " Thou 
shalt call, and I will answer thee ; thou wilt have a 
desire to the work of thine hands !" And when that 
time of the consummation of all things shall arrive, 
then shall his dying utterance be realized : " As for 
me, I will behold thy face in righteousness; I shall 
be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness." 

Mrs. Wesley's affection for this honored parent was 
intense and constant. She cherished his memory and 
meditated upon his saintly character to her latest 
hour. Sometimes she felt a peculiar nearness to him, 
as though she held converse with his ascended spirit. 
Her son John heard her say that she was frequently 
as fully persuaded that her father was with her, as if 
she had seen him with her bodily eyes. She left her 



96 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

statement without any explanation ; but her real 
views may probably be elicited from her writings. 
When speaking of the mysterious noises in the Ep- 
worth parsonage, described at large in our next chap- 
ter, she observes, "I am rather inclined to think 
there would be frequent intercourse between good 
spirits and us, did not our deep lapse into sensuality 
prevent it." The following remarkable passage in 
her beautiful and masterly exposition of the Apostles' 
Creed still more fully explains her meaning : " What 
knowledge the saints in heaven have of things or 
persons in this world, we can not determine; nor 
after what manner we hold communion with them, it 
is not, at present, easy to conceive. That we are all 
members of the same mystical body, Christ, we are 
very sure ; and do all partake of the same vital in- 
fluence from the same Head; and so we are united 
together. And though we are not actually possessed 
of the same happiness which they enjoy, yet we have 
the same Holy Spirit given unto us as an earnest 
of our eternal felicity with them hereafter. And 
though their faith is consummated by vision, and 
their hope by present possession, yet the bond of 
Christian charity still remains. And as we have 
great joy and complacency in their felicity, so, no 
doubt, they desire and pray for us." 

Though not prepared to explain the manner in 
which the intercourse is carried on, Mrs. Wesley 
clearly held the doctrine of spiritual communion with 
departed saints. This theory, so enchanting and 



MARRIAGE. 97 

soothing to those whose friends have departed hence 
in the Lord, has been received by many devout and 
able divines. There are unmistakable indications 
that it was regarded with considerable favor by Mrs. 
Wesley's gifted sons. After Charles has sung his 
noble hymns of triumph over the exodus of some of 
his saintly friends, he is not slow to tell us that, in 
his public services and private meditations, he felt 
communion with them. It was John Wesley's con- 
stant custom to preach on All- Saints' -Day, one of his 
most favorite Church festivals, on communion with the 
heavenly multitude. He declares also that he many 
times realized such a sudden and lively apprehen- 
sion of deceased friends, that he has turned round 
to look if they were not actually and visibly present 
at his side ; and " an uncommon affection for them " 
sprung up in his heart. In his dreams of the night 
he sometimes held " exceeding lively conversations 
with them," and doubted not that " they were* very 
near." 

There is a striking illustration of one of these 
" exceeding lively conversations " in the following 
passage from the " Life of Mrs. Fletcher :" " Last 
night I had a powerful sense, in my sleep, of the 
presence of my dear husband. I felt such sweet 
communion with his spirit as gave me much peaceful 
feeling. I had for some days thought that I was 
called to resist, more than I did, that strong and 
lively remembrance of various scenes, both of his 
last sickness and many other circumstances, which 



98 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

frequently occurred with much pain. This thought 
being present to my mind, I looked on him. He 
said, with a sweet smile, 'It is better to forget.' 
' What/ said I, ' my dear love, to forget one another V 
He replied, with an inexpressible sweetness, 'It is 
better to forget. It will not be long. We shall not 
be parted long ; we shall soon meet again.' He then 
signified, though not in words, that all weights should 
be laid aside." 

This is, probably, more or less, the experience of 
all good people who have loved ones " on the other 
side of the flood." But, however we may account 
for the feeling, we fail to find in the Holy Scriptures 
any satisfactory recognition of this alleged commun- 
ion of saints on earth with saints in heaven. We 
have an utter abhorrence of the blasphemies, so 
common in our own day, which profess to carry on 
this intercourse by the action of " mediums " and 
unmeaning sounds. Solemn mysteries are to be rev- 
erently regarded, rather than rudely explored. We 
are probably encompassed by multitudes of spiritual 
existences, both angelic and human. However light 
and thin the curtain which screens them from mortal 
vision, it is not transparent ; and we will not attempt 
either to pierce or lift it. "We walk by faith, not 
by sight." If nothing conscious can pass between 
us and the glorified; if all interchange of thought 
and feeling be closed ; if our mutual sensibilities find 
no point of contact or medium of expression, we are, 
in some sense or other, " come unto the spirits of just 



MARRIAGE. 99 

men made perfect" as well as unto " an innumerable 
company of angels." If intercourse be straitened or 
closed, meditation is free and active. The contem- 
plation of their virtues in this mortal life, and of 
their happiness in heaven, exerts an influence over 
our minds which prompts to a cheerful emulation of 
their spirit, that we may finally share their blessed- 
ness. "Wherefore, seeing we also are compassed 
about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay 
aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily 
beset us, and let us run with patience the race that 
is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the Author and 
Finisher of our faith; who, for the joy that was set 
before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, 
and is set down at the right hand of the throne of 
God." 

Beautiful and cheering indeed are the words of 
"Winter Hamilton, in one of his sweetest and most 
eloquent discourses : " When we seem to descry 
among the nations of the saved those whom we have 
cherished ; when there stands forth from them father, 
mother, brother, sister, the partners and children of 
our desolate households, we feel a moral complacency 
in them that destroys not tenderness, but which re- 
fines and sanctifies it; that awakens awe, but which 
also softens and endures it. The love which once 
held us is strengthened ; but it is woven of more 
solemn ties than before. We hail that cloud of wit- 
nesses. We go up and salute the Church triumphant. 
We exercise not, however, an unreciprocated love. 



100 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

We know that we did possess it. We forget not our 
parting with them — how their eye glazed as it rested 
fondly on us ; how their trembling breath whispered 
still their undying attachment; how their hand grew 
cold and nerveless in our grasp ! Have affections 
which death could not chill, turned suddenly indiffer- 
ent and unheeding ? Are they weaned from us ? Are 
we forgotten ? Is all sympathy withdrawn ? Hearts 
grow not selfish in heaven. It is the world of love. 
Friendships are treasured there. The saints dwelling 
in it are alive to all the interests of the Church on 
earth. They take their part in the importunities for 
its avengement, and in the acclamations of its tri- 
umphs. They look forward to ' the coming of our 
Lord Jesus Christ with all his saints,' and to ' our 
gathering together unto him.' Spirits made perfect 
can abandon no love which it was ever their right 
to form, their duty to cherish, their benefit to ex- 
ercise. Their perfection is the pledge that each holy 
attachment is raised to that perfection." Who can 
contemplate these glowing truths and not feel the 
overwhelming force of the apostolic exhortation : 
" Wherefore the rather, brethren, give diligence to 
make your calling and election sure ; for if ye do 
these things, ye shall never fall: for so an entrance 
shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the 
everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus 
Christ." 

At the close of the passage extracted from her ex- 
position of the creed, Mrs. Wesley suggests that our 



MARRIAGE. 101 

glorified friends may possibly desire "good things" 
on our behalf, and even "pray for us" in the heav- 
enly sanctuary. This opinion has the merit of having 
been held by some of the most eminent divines in the 
seventeenth century, and probably in ' much earlier 
times. The lively and eloquent Thomas Adams, 
speaking of the militant and triumphant parts of the 
one universal Church, observes : " They sing hosan- 
nas for us, and we halleluiahs for them; they pray 
to God for us, and we praise God for them — for the 
excellent graces they had on earth, and for their 
present glory in heaven." And the sober Anthony 
Farindon, whose pulpit was regarded as the theo- 
logical chair of England, offers the same view : 
"The blessed saints departed, though we may not 
pray for them, yet may pray for us, though we hear 
it not." 

This opinion will most likely be regarded as un- 
scriptural and dangerous. The common creed of our 
times is, that heaven is a place 

"Where faith in sight is swallow'd up, 
And prayer in endless praise." 

Prayer, it is argued, is an expression of want, and 
as in the world of perfect blessedness the glorified 
will feel no needs, they will not require any prayer 
to express them. But is there not something more 
in prayer than the expression of wants and the sup- 
plication of supplies? Is there no lofty communion 
with God, so sweet and refreshing to the devout 



102 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

heart? And may not prayer in this sublime sense 
form part of that endless service which the heavenly 
congregation render day and night in the upper 
sanctuary? In their celestial ministries the elders 
of the glorified Church not only "sing as it were a 
new song ;" they " fall down before the Lamb, having 
every one of them harps and golden vials full of 
odors, which are the prayers of saints." And while 
the kingdom of God remains unfinished on the earth 
may they not, like the Great Intercessor himself, 
pray for the world's conversion? Has that prayer 
which they so fervently and often poured forth on 
earth become unsuited to their present position and 
service? "Thy kingdom come; thy will be done in 
earth as it is in heaven!" The disembodied spirits 
of the "noble army of martyrs" cry from beneath 
the altar with a loud voice, "How long, Lord, 
holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our 
blood on them that dwell on the earth !" Is it 
inconsistent with the laws of that higher sphere in 
which they live, or with their nearness to the throne, 
that the sainted dead should so remember friends still 
on the earth as to desire and pray for us? 

For the full solution of these and many other 
questions relating to heavenly employments, we must 
wait till we "enter in through the gates into the 
city." 



EPWORTH. 103 



EPWORTH. 

Thou sufferest men to ride over our heads: 
"We went through fire and water. 

Psalms of David. 

Close bordering on the winding Trent, in one of 
the most fertile parts of Lincolnshire, are the parish 
and manor of Epworth. The surrounding country 
forms the Isle of Axholme, containing nearly fifty 
thousand acres of land and fourteen thousand inhab- 
itants. The Idle, Torn, and Don flow around its 
southern and western sides; the Trent bounds it on 
the east ; and the ancient Bykers dike, running 
from the Idle to the Trent, completes the circuit, 
and converts it into a river islet. Were we writing 
its history, we should have to recount many a fierce 
sally of wild Britons from its neighboring forests 
upon the sturdy Roman invader, as he marched on 
in his career of northern conquest. Situated at the 
extremity of two ancient Saxon kingdoms, the princes 
of Mercia and North-Humbria made it the scene of 
many deadly conflicts ; while its contiguity to the 
Trent and the Humber rendered it of easy access to 
the barbarous hordes of Danish marauders in their 



104 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

frequent expeditions to our eastern shores. Chris- 
tianity found a lodgment within its limits early in 
the Saxon period; but the inhabitants remained in a 
condition of semi-barbarism long after other parts of 
the country had been reformed and civilized. The 
"men of the isle" enjoyed many peculiar privileges 
above their surrounding neighbors, but they were a 
savage and brutal race. Lawless violence prevailed; 
and for more than a hundred years litigious quarrels, 
arising out of disputes about the rights of land, 
frequently agitated the whole neighborhood. 

Meanwhile the "low levels" of the isle, which, 
from time immemorial, had been subject to almost 
constant submersion from the river, were little better 
than a swamp, where lurking ague found a constant 
home. When the overflows took place they "broke 
the banks, and drowned the country for a vast many 
miles round about." Flocks and herds had to be 
"boated to the hills," or left to perish in their folds; 
and many human lives were frequently lost. A 
"woeful spectator of the lamentable destruction of 
my native soil and country " says : " I and my com- 
pany have been confined to an upper chamber and 
seen no dry land for the space of these seven days. 
I did see the mothers, Pyrrha-like, trudging middle- 
deep in water with theire infants hanginge upon theire 
breastes; and the fathers, Deucalion-like, bearinge 
theire children upon theire shoulders to seek higher 
ground for theire succour. All sorts of people in 
pitifull distress; some to save theire lives, somo 



EPWORTH. 105 

theire goods and cattle, some to get food for theire 
hungrie bodies." 

The value of these "low levels," however, soon 
became apparent in the eyes both of natives and for- 
eigners. In the time of the Stuarts, a charter for 
draining the whole country-side was given to Cor- 
nelius Vermuyden, a Danish money-lender who had 
frequently accommodated the First Charles in his 
pecuniary straits. After immense expenditure, dis- 
putations, frays, and toils, the work was finished. 
A considerable part of the " King's chase " was res- 
cued from the dominion of the lawless waters. The 
arable and pasture land of the neighborhood was in- 
creased by many thousand acres of " a fine, rich 
brown loam, than which there is none more fertile 
in England." 

In the center of this remarkable district stands a 
small market town, irregularly built, but pleasantly 
situated on the slope of a gentle hill. It is the recog- 
nized " Metropolis of the Isle," containing about two 
thousand inhabitants, and rejoicing in the appropriate 
name of Epworth — from Heapeurde, " the Hill Farm," 
or " the farm on the rising ground." The church, 
resting on a considerable eminence on the north side 
of the town, commands an extensive prospect. It is 
dedicated to Saint Andrew, and is of rather ancient 
date. It consists of nave, aisles, chancel, and tower ; 
and, like many other Lincolnshire churches, has the 
appearance of having been built at different times. 
The town has become a place of deepest interest to 



106 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

two religious denominations. There the founder of 
Methodism and the planter of its earliest off-shoot 
were born; and in the old parish church they were 
both dedicated to Grod in the holy sacrament of 
baptism. 

At the close of 1696, or the beginning of 1697, 
the rectorship of this parish, still in the gift of the 
Crown, was conferred upon Samuel Wesley, in ac- 
cordance probably with some wish or promise of 
Queen Mary before her departure.* He had ren- 
dered some service to her cause by writing in favor 
of the Revolution which placed her husband on the 
throne. Three years before, he had dedicated to her 
a metrical and illustrated "Life of our Lord Jesus 
Christ," which she highly approved; and at her 
death he had the honor of " scattering a few verses, 
and more tears, over her grave." The living was 
" proffered and given without his having solicited any 
person; without his ever expecting or even once 
thinking of such a favor." But it is not unlikely 
that his former services, as well as the dedication of 
his " Heroic Poem " to the Queen, were remembered 
at Court. Epworth was four times the value of any 

* Wesley's own words are : " He wrote a book, which he dedi- 
cated to Queen Mary, who for that reason gave him a living in the 
country, valued at two hundred pounds per annum, where he re- 
mained for nearly forty years." 

Mary died in December, 1694 ; and the Epworth living was not 
entered upon by Wesley till two years afterward. Either, therefore, 
she must have conferred upon him " the next presentation " — sup- 
posing that to be possible — or expressed some desire in accordance 
with which the living was so bestowed. 



EPWORTH. 107 

of his former appointments ; and, with an increasing 
family to provide for, he joyfully accepted the offer. 

The necessary arrangements completed, the broad 
seal duly affixed to his title, and the requisite fees 
discharged, Wesley with his noble wife, young Sam- 
uel, Emilia, Sukey, and Mary, then an infant in arms, 
crossed over to the " other side of the county," and 
took possession of the new home. The "upper 
classes " of the parishioners were small land-owners, 
dreadfully careful of their cash, and living chiefly on 
bread, buttermilk, " ash-heap-cakes," eggs, and flour 
puddings. The " ladies," in many instances, wore 
the very gowns and cloaks which had so well served 
their mothers before them. The memory of the " old- 
est inhabitant" could not remember ever seeing a 
farmer arrayed, at any one time, in a complete suit 
of new clothes. The first-class maid-servant rejoiced 
in forty shillings a year wages. She got up at three 
in the morning to ply the spinning-wheel for a while 
before she went to milk the lowing kine. She clad 
herself in " linsey-woolsey " garments, blessedly ig- 
norant of gay ribbons and artificial flowers", crinoline, 
mantelette, and Victoria boots, which feed the pride 
and ruin the pockets of so many of her class in our 
own times. The broad acres were largely covered 
with hemp and flax, in the dressing of which most 
of the population were employed; and the manufac- 
ture of canvas, sacking, wool-sheets, and heavy linen 
goods, was profitable to the entire neighborhood. 

The parsonage, evidently no stately mansion, con- 



108 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

sisted of " five baies, built all of timber and plaister, 
and covered all with straw thache, the whole building 
being contrived into three stories, and disposed into 
seven cheife rooms ; namely, a kitchinge, a hall, a 
parlor, a butterie, and three large upper rooms ; be- 
sydes some others of common use; and also a little 
garden impailed, betweene the stone wall and the 
south." The " horne-stall, or scite of the parsonage, 
situate and lyenge betweene the field on the east, 
and Lancaster-Lane on the west, and abuttinge upon 
the High-street on the south, and of John Maw — sone 
of Thomas — his tenement, and a croft on the north," 
contained, " by estimation, three acres." There " was 
one barn of six baies, built all of timber and clay 
walls, and covered with straw thache; and outshotts 
about it, and free house therebye." Then came " one 
dovecoate of timber and plaister," covered with the 
usual " straw thache ;" and, finally, " one hemp-kiln, 
that hath been usealeie occupied for the parsonage 
ground, adjoyning upon the south." 

This house, humble as it was, being larger than the 
Wesleys a had on the other side of the county," and 
their family increasing, new furniture was necessary. 
For this purpose, as well as " for setting up a little 
husbandry when he took the tithes into his own 
hands," the rector was obliged to "take up fifty 
pounds more" in addition to moneys already bor- 
rowed. In process of time, the glebe was stocked 
and cultivated. There were cows in the meadows 
and swine in the sty. The flax and the barley 



EPWORTH. 109 

waved in the field. The " two-eyed-nag," and 
" Bounce," and " Mettle," were employed in tilling 
the ground, or carting home the produce ; while the 
"filly" and the "nag" afforded to the rector and 
his wife pleasant and healthy equestrian exercise. 
The milkmaid warbled her song with the carol of the 
lark ; and the patient hind went " forth unto his 
work, and to his labor, until the evening." 

Had not Wesley been entirely dependent upon 
borrowed capital — for which, in some cases, heavy 
interest had to be paid — he might now have obtained 
some relief from the cares which had hitherto op- 
pressed him. This "interest money" was a heavy 
millstone about his neck, and, combined with some 
severe losses, made the Epworth parsonage a place 
of poverty and temporal distress. The "one barn 
of six baies" was an unsubstantial structure, and 
fell down when it had been in his possession only 
twelve months. Then, during the dry Summer of 
1702, some sparks fell upon the thatch of the house, 
which speedily ignited, and a third of the miserable 
hut was burned to the ground. Mrs. Wesley and 
the children were in the study when the fire broke 
out. The mother, taking two of the little ones in 
her arms, rushed through the smoke and flame. One 
child, however, was left behind. Happily, the neigh- 
bors heard her cries for help, and rescued her from 
the impending death. The library was saved, and 
"not many of the goods" were missed. The calamity 
was, nevertheless, very severe. The family had to 



110 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS 

be crowded for many months into the few remaining 
rooms, and the expense of restoration, especially to 
a man already oppressed with debt, was no light 
thing. When the rector, who. was at the other end 
of the town visiting the sick, heard of the salvation 
of his household, he wrote : " For which God be 
praised, as well as for what he has taken! I find 
't is some happiness to have been miserable ; for my 
mind has been so blunted with former misfortunes 
that this scarce made any impression upon me." 

One would almost imagine that devouring fire Was 
Samuel Wesley's adverse element; for he certainly 
suffered from it more frequently than most men. 
Within twelve months after this partial destruction 
of the parsonage his entire growth of flax, on which 
he relied to satisfy some of his hungry creditors, 
was consumed in the field; and in 1709 the rectory, 
with all its contents, was utterly destroyed by fire. 
Near midnight, on the 9th of February, the sprightly 
little Hetty, frightened by a burning sensation at her 
feet, looked up and saw pieces of lighted wood falling 
from the roof of the room. The rector was roused 
by the loud cry of " fire ! fire !" in the street. He 
" started up, and, opening his door, found the fire 
was in his own house." Bidding his wife and eldest 
daughter "rise quickly and shift for themselves," 
he rushed to the nursery, where the servant and five 
children were sleeping. When they got into the hall, 
and were completely surrounded by the flames, it was 
found that the keys of the lower doors had been left 



EPWORTH. Ill 

up stairs. It was a perilous moment, and an awful 
death seemed inevitable. Happily, the keys were 
obtained "a minute before the staircase took fire." 
"When we opened the- street door," says Mrs. Wesley, 
"the strong north-east wind drove the flames in with 
such violence that none could stand against them. 
But some of our children got out through the win- 
dows; the rest through a little door into the garden. 
I was not in a condition to climb up to the windows, 
neither could I get to the garden door. I endeavored 
three times to force my passage through the street 
door, but was as often driven back by the fury of 
the flames. In this distress I besought our blessed 
Savior for help, and then waded through the fire, 
naked as I was, which did me no further harm than 
a little scorching my hands and my face." 

When the tenants of the nursery were aroused, 
the maid caught up the youngest child, and told the 
others to follow her; but a lovely boy, six years old, 
lay sleeping on and taking his rest, unconscious of 
danger. When all the others were safe he was 
missed. His father, thinking he heard him crying 
in the nursery, strove to stem the torrent of flame 
for his rescue. Thrice was he driven back, and the 
burning staircase began to crash and fall beneath 
his tread. Finding he could render him no help, 
he kneeled in the hall, and in an agony of prayer 
solemnly commended his soul to God. Meanwhile 
the child awoke, and seeing the room full of light 
he thought it was day, and called the servant t:> 



112 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

take him up. As no one answered, he put his head 
out of the curtains and saw "streaks of fire" run- 
ning along the top of the room. He arose and ran 
to the door, but all he saw was a roaring sea of 
flame. Climbing on a chest near the window, he 
was seen from the yard below. "I will run and 
fetch a ladder," said one of the people. "There 
will not be time," answered another. " Here ; I 
have thought of a shorter way. I will fix myself 
against the wall; lift a light man and set him on 
my shoulder." The house being low, the expedient 
succeeded, and the child was thus delivered from a 
terrible death. Another moment and he must have 
perished beneath the fall of the burning roof. 

All the world is familiar with the fact that the 
child thus miraculously saved was none other than 
John Wesley, the founder of Methodism ! He re- 
membered this providential deliverance through his 
entire after-life with the deepest gratitude. He com- 
memorated it by an engraving, under one of his por- 
traits, of a house in flames, beneath which is the 
impressive motto, "Is not this a brand plucked out 
of the burning V When they took him into the 
house where his father was he cried out: "Come, 
neighbors, let us kneel down; let us give thanks to 
God! He has given me all my eight children. Let 
the house go ; I am rich enough !" The next day, 
as the rector pensively paced the garden, surveying 
the blackened ruins of the house, he picked up a 
leaf of his cherished and expensive Polyglot Bible, 



EPWORTH. 113 

on which just one solitary sentence was legible : 

Vade; vende omnia quce habes, et attolle crucem, et 

sequere me — " Go ; sell all that thou hast, and take 

up thy cross, and follow me." 

This was indeed a sore calamity; the destruction 

was complete. "I lost," says the rector, "all my 

books and manuscripts; a considerable sum of money; 

all our linen, wearing apparel, and household stuff, 

except a little old iron ; my wife and I being scorched 

by the flames, and all of us very narrowly escaping 

with our lives." Very little of the old materials was 

left; and as for furniture he declares: "We had now 

very little more than what Adam and Eve had when 

they first set up housekeeping." But there were 

other things quite as grievous as these material losses. 

There was no house in which they could live as a 

complete family; and for a long time they had to be 

scattered in the houses of friends and others. All 

domestic discipline was at an end; all regular studies 

interrupted. This was the sorest trial to Mrs. Wesley. 

Those fine, intelligent, well-trained children, who had 

been so carefully shepherded in the fold of the 

rectory, were scattered in a wilderness. They came 

in contact with rough natures, and learned many 

habits which it cost their mother much time and 

labor to reform and cure. "For some years," she 

says, "we went on very well. Never were children 

in better order, never were children better disposed 

to piety, or in more subjection to their parents, 

till that fatal dispersion of them, after, the fire, 
10 



114 THE MOTHEK OF THE WESLEYS. 

into several families. In those they were left at 
full liberty to converse with servants, which before 
they had always been restrained from, and to run 
abroad, and play with any children, good or bad. 
They soon learned to neglect a strict observation 
of the Sabbath, and got knowledge of several songs 
and bad things, which before they had no notion 
of. That civil behavior which made them admired, 
when at home, by all which saw them, was, in great 
measure, lost, and a clownish accent and many 
rude ways were learned, which were not reformed 
without some difficulty." How true are the words 
of Inspiration, "Evil communications corrupt good 
manners !" 

Was this terrible conflagration, involving the all 
but irreparable temporal ruin of a large and respect- 
able family, the result of accident or design? Both 
sides of the question have had their supporters; but 
we are fully persuaded it was the act of some malig- 
nant incendiary. The fire did not occur in the "dry 
time " of Summer, when a few sparks would ignite 
the thatch, but in the depth of Winter, when the in- 
flammable roof-covering was in the worst possible 
condition to be lighted by accident. It did not com- 
mence in the day-time, when the grates were filled 
with crackling wood, or glowing coals, or sparkling 
peat, but at the dead of night, when all fires had 
been extinguished for hours. It did not break out 
in any lower room, but in the thatch of the roof, and 
must, therefore, have been lighted from without. 



EPWOKTH. 115 

And who in his senses would insinuate that it was 
" arson," when the character of every member of the 
family forbids the suspicion, and there was no insur- 
ance from which compensation could be obtained? 
The only fair conclusion is, that the house was fired 
by some malicious person or persons unknown. 

It must be remembered that such desperate doings 
were no strange thing to " the men of the Isle." 
Both before and after the conflagration of the par- 
sonage, those who had sinned against the popular 
will were made to- feel the people's wrath in a similar 
way. Their crops were destroyed, their farm-build- 
ings pulled down, and the torch deliberately applied 
to their dwelling-house. And not long before this 
crowning act of their wickedness, they had shown 
their animus against the Wesley family, by a series 
of most dastardly and inhuman outrages. They had 
assembled under the windows and " complimented " 
them all night long " with drums and guns." Three 
cows, the main support of the household, were stabbed 
in one night, though none of them " was killed out- 
right." The report was maliciously circulated that 
they had " accidentally run against a scythe," or that 
" the brawn had done it." To the innocent children 
they said, a O, ye devils ! we will come and turn ye 
all out of doors a-begging shortly." They "twined 
off the iron latch of the house door." They "hacked 
the wood " in order to shoot back the lock ; and what 
could this be for but robbery, or even a still fouler 
crime? The poor house-dog, "who made a huge 



116 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

noise within-doors, was sufficiently punished for his 
want of politics and moderation," by having his " leg 
almost chopped off by an unknown hand." The rec- 
tor not unnaturally concluded that it " was this foul 
beast " of an imbruted populace, this " worse than 
Erymanthean boar, who fired his flax by rubbing his 
tusks against the wall." And if the flax, why not 
the parsonage? 

The reason frequently assigned for this deadly 
hatred of some of his parishioners, leading to such 
melancholy results, is the rector's uncompromising 
pulpit fidelity and strict pastoral discipline. We are 
not disposed, however, to attach much weight to this 
particular view. He had exercised his calling among 
these very people several years before this enmity 
assumed any hostile form ; and the outrages we have 
described all took place after he had given great um- 
brage by his conduct in a great political crisis. The 
general election of 1705 was one of the most violent 
this country has ever known. From the Land's-End 
to Berwick-on-Tweed the people were roused to the 
conflict by the party-cry, " The Church is in danger !" 
According to Burnet, the press teemed with pam- 
phlets declaring that " the Church was to be given 
up ; that the Bishops were betraying it ; that the 
Court would sell it to the Dissenters." Many High- 
Church clergymen echoed the rallying cry from their 
pulpits, and, as in later times, aspirants for senatorial 
honors industriously labored' to make political capital 
out of an ecclesiastical excitement. 



EPWORTH. 117 

The contest for the county of Lincoln was exceed- 
ingly bitter and severe. The old members, Sir John 
Thorold and " Champion " Dymoke, offered them- 
selves for reelection. The new candidates for parlia- 
mentary fame were Colonel Whichcott and a gentle- 
man named Bertie. The lands of Axholme being 
divided among a greater number of owners than any 
other part of the county, the freehold voters were 
consequently numerous. In a contested election, 
therefore, this insignificant corner of the shire became 
the chief battle-ground of the contending parties. 
Whoever could carry " the Isle," with its seven or 
eight hundred " free and independent electors," was 
pretty sure of the victory. 

Wesley, as the leading clergyman of the neighbor- 
hood, was early and zealously canvassed by both par- 
ties. He promised Thorold thlit he would not vote 
against him; but he positively refused to support 
" the Champion." Whichcott was a neighboring gen- 
tleman with whom he was on friendly terms ; and to 
him the rector pledged his " vote and interest." 
When, however, he returned from a short visit to 
London on private business, he found the position of 
affairs greatly altered. The party-cry had reached 
the Isle, and the contest had assumed a most vio- 
lent form. Thorold and "the Champion" were 
"true blue," stanch for Royalty and the Church; 
while Whichcott and Bertie, both professedly Church- 
men, had thrown themselves into the hands of the 
Dissenters, and had become the representatives of 



118 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

revolutionary measures in the Establishment. The 
Church, the clergy, and "the memory of the Martyr 
were openly scandalized;" while the character and 
doings of Cromwell were highly exalted. 

These changes, after he had promised Whichcott 
his vote, placed Wesley in very peculiar and trying 
circumstances. To assail the Church he so much 
loved was to touch the apple of his eye. When he 
found a combination to endanger her interests he 
naturally took alarm; and when he saw that the 
man to whom he had pledged his vote, on the under- 
standing that he was a friend of the Church, had be- 
come the avowed representative of an extreme party, 
who desired and predicted her overthrow, he con- 
sidered himself absolved from his promise. Though 
" equally against his inclination and his interest," he 
resolved to "drop both when honor and conscience 
were concerned," and vote for "the friends of the 
Church."* And who shall condemn him for so 
doing? Had he known that Whichcott would take 
the course he did, and become the champion of those 
whom he regarded as enemies of the Establishment, 
Wesley would never have promised him his vote ; 
and to have voted for him after he openly avowed 
the Dissenting opinion which he felt it convenient 
to profess in order to gain the election, would have 
been a public renunciation of principles which Wesley 
had long and sacredly held, and for which he had 
sacrificed much. 

* Original Papers. 



EPWORTH. 119 

We have no positive information as to the active 
part the Epworth rector took in this exciting contest. 
He declares, "I concerned myself only in the election 
of my own county, which I thought I had as much 
right to do as any other freeholder."* The proba- 
bility is, that with his strong and sincere ecclesiastical 
opinions — and the question with him was a Church 
question, without any reference to secular politics — 
he threw himself thoroughly into the election strife. 
Under the given circumstances he was not the man 
to remain inactive, or to satisfy himself by simply 
recording his vote. He most likely followed out the 
full convictions of his duty, and the consequences to 
himself and family were humiliating and afflictive. 
The opposite party loaded him with every kind of 
insult and persecution within their power. On the 
steps of his own church he was called "rascal and 
scoundrel." f Having covenanted in an unholy alli- 
ance to destroy his life, they lay in wait for him 
and his servant many hours; but, being forewarned, 
he returned home another way and escaped. While 
visiting Lincoln to record his vote, the infuriated 
"Isle people" wreaked their malice upon his afflicted 
wife and unoffending children. Nearly a whole night 
they "kept drumming, shouting, and firing off pistols 
and guns" under the window of the room where 
Mrs. Wesley lay, feeble and exhausted from a recent 
confinement. The new-born infant had been com- 
mitted to the care of a nurse just opposite the 

* Original Papers. f Ibid. 



120 THE MOTHEK OP THE WESLEYS. 

parsonage. The noise kept her awake "till one or 
two in the morning." Then, heavy with sleep, she 
"o\*erlaid the child," and became the unconscious 
instrument of its death. When she awoke and found 
her precious charge crushed and suffocated beneath 
her own person, she ran to the rectory almost dis- 
tracted, and threw the child into the hands of the 
servant. The maid ran to Mrs. Wesley's room, and, 
ere the mother was well awake, the infant, " cold and 
dead," was placed in her arms. "She composed 
herself as well as she could," says her husband, 
"and that day got it buried." 

These, however, were but the beginning of sorrows. 
Nothing short of his utter ruin would glut the vindic- 
tive malice of his enemies. They used their influence 
in high places so successfully as to deprive him of 
the chaplaincy of a regiment which he had obtained 
from the Duke of Marlborough "with so much ex- 
pense and trouble." Unfortunately he also numbered 
some of them among his minor creditors, and no 
sooner was the election contest over than they made 
him feel that he was in their power. Coming out of 
his church from a baptismal service, he was arrested 
for a paltry debt of less than thirty pounds, owing 
to an unfeeling creditor called Pinder, a relative 
and violent supporter of Colonel Whichcott. A few 
hours' delay would have enabled the rector to meet 
the demand. " My adversary was sent to, when I 
was on the road," he writes, "to meet me, that I 
might make some proposals to him ; but all his 



EPWORTH. 121 

answer was, that I must immediately pay the whole 
sum or go to prison." There was furniture in the 
house and stock on the farm; but Wesley's ruin, 
and not the payment of the debt, was the austere 
creditor's immediate object. He was, therefore, hur- 
ried away to Lincoln Castle before any of his friends 
could come to his rescue. 

He left home "with no great concern for himself," 
but his heart was riven at the thought of leaving his 
"poor lambs in the midst of so many wolves." No 
sooner was he within the walls of the prison than he 
exclaimed: "Now I am at rest, for I am come to 
the haven where I 've long expected to be ! . . . 
A jail is a paradise in comparison of the life I led 
before I came hither !" He was not insensible to 
his real position ; but, like a man who has long strug- 
gled under the apprehension of some fearful calamity, 
he felt that the actual crisis was more endurable than 
the agonizing suspense. The " worst," which he had 
so bravely but vainly struggled to ward off, had come, 
and the next step must be one of rescue and advance. 
"I hope to rise again, as I have always done when 
at the lowest," he writes; "and I think I can not 
be much lower now." 

Although plunged into a debtor's cell, where many 

in his profession would have hidden themselves as far 

as possible from the gaze of their fellow-prisoners, 

Samuel Wesley did not forget his high calling as a 

minister of the Lord Jesus. He saw around him 

men who deeply needed the Gospel, and seized upon 
11 



122 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

his imprisonment as an opportunity of usefulness. 
Only two days after his arrival he writes: "I don't 
despair of doing some good here — and so long I 
sha' n't quite lose the end of living— and it may be 
do more in this new parish than in my old one; for 
I have leave to read prayers every morning and 
afternoon here in the prison; and to preach once 
a Sunday, which I choose to do in the afternoon, 
when there is no service at the minster. I am get- 
ting acquainted with my brother jail-birds as fast as 
I can; and shall write to London, next post, to the 
Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, who 
I hope will send me some books to distribute among 
them." 

To his noble and heroic wife, this incarceration of 
the rector must have been the severest possible trial. 
Left " as sheep in the midst of wolves," subject to 
gross insults and threatenings, the family life in the 
parsonage was one of perpetual struggle and appre- 
hension. Yet she bore it with all the fortitude and 
generous patience which became her position, " and 
which," says her husband, "I expected from her." 
" 'T is not every one could bear these things ; but, I 
bless God, my wife is less concerned with suffering 
them, than I am in the writing. She is not what she 
is represented, any more than me." Entirely de- 
pendent upon the produce of the dairy for the sub- 
sistence of the family, and absolutely destitute of 
money, her anxieties would certainly have crushed a 
woman of inferior spirit, and less confidence in the 



EPWOETH. 123 

God of her life. She felt deeply lest her husband 
should be in greater straits for necessary food than 
herself and children. What little jewelry she pos- 
sessed, including " the token and pledge " of her 
marriage covenant, she sent for his relief. It was 
instantly returned, " and God soon provided for him." 

His arrest had been occasioned by unflinching ad- 
herence to the Church of his choice, and sincere, yet 
perhaps overzealous, efforts to keep out of the legis- 
lature men opposed to her interests. The clergy, 
with good Archbishop Sharp at their head, felt that 
he deserved their generous sympathy. He made a 
full and candid statement of his liabilities, amounting 
to " about three hundred pounds ;" and in a short 
time more than half his debts were paid, and arrange- 
ments made for their complete liquidation. After 
three weary months in the grim old Castle, during 
which his spirit never failed him, preaching to his 
fellow-prisoners, writing his " Answer to Palmer," 
" tempted to print his case in his own vindication," 
and rejoicing that he would " some time have a more 
equal Judge than any in this world," he returned to 
his family and his parish without fear of any man 
seizing him by the throat and saying, " fay me that 
thou owest!" 

Most of his friends advised him to leave Ep worth, 
and seek a more congenial sphere of labor, free from 
those deep prejudices and deadly hostilities mani- 
fested by " the men of the Isle." But he resolutely 
disregarded their counsel. " I confess I am not of 



124 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

that mind," he writes to the Archbishop of York, 
" because I may yet do some good there ; and 't is 
like a coward to desert my post because the enemy 
fire thick upon me. They have only wounded me 
yet, and, I believe, can 't kill me." Among these 
enemies, Robert Darwin, one of his richest parish- 
ioners, gained a bad preeminence for outrageous con- 
duct. "He was," says Mrs. Wesley, in writing to 
her son, "one of the most implacable enemies your 
father had among his parishioners ; one that insulted 
him most basely in his troubles ; one that was ready 
to do him all the mischief he could, not to mention 
his affronts to me and the children, and how heartily 
he wished to see our ruin, which God permitted him 
not to see." This violent persecutor met with a most 
awful death. Returning from Bawtry fair in a state 
of senseless intoxication, he fell from his horse and 
disjointed his neck. His companions "immediately 
pulled it in again, and he lived till next day ; but he 
never spoke more. His face was torn all to pieces ; 
one of his eyes beat out; his under lip cut off; his 
nose broken down ; and, in short, he was one of the 
dreadfulest examples of the severe justice of God 
that I have known. This man and one more," adds 
Mrs. Wesley, " have been now cut off in the midst 
of their sins since your father's confinement." And 
who can wonder that she saw, in events like these, 
the avenging hand of Him ■ who hath said, " Touch 
not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm?' ; 
The prejudices of his parishioners were by no 



EPWOKTH. 125 

means smoothed away after the rector's return to his 
parish. The hostilities continued to increase till they 
culminated in the dastard deed which burnt his house 
to the ground. Then a truce ensued; a better feel- 
ing sprang up ; and the family fairly entered upon a 
life of quietness and hope. Preparations were made 
for the erection of a new parsonage, more substantial 
and fire-proof than its predecessor. The old founda- 
tions were dug up ; bricks were substituted for wood 
and plaster, and a commodious dwelling gradually 
rose to completion. Compared with the hovel which 
it superseded, the house was a roomy and convenient 
mansion. We read of kitchen, parlor, and dining- 
room ; study and nursery ; best chamber, matted 
chamber, and painted chamber; and, over all, the 
wide and ghostly garret. As if he indorsed the sen- 
timent of Bacon, that "gardening is the purest of 
all human pleasures," the rector commenced laying 
out the beds and casting in the seeds. The " two 
fronts " of the house he planted with wall-fruit. 
Mulberry-trees, cherry-trees, and pear-trees he set in 
the garden, and walnuts " in the adjoining croft." 
This pleasant task he undertook, that he " might do 
what became him, and leave the living better than he 
found it." The family again gathered under one 
roof. The necessary reforms were rigidly enforced; 
domestic discipline was restored ; and the painstaking 
processes of education were vigorously resumed. 

The former house has its legends of wonders, and 
is celebrated throughout the world as the place from 



126 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLETS. 

"which the founder of Methodism was so marvelously 
rescued; and the latter house is renowned as the 
scene of events concerning which no satisfactory ex- 
planation has yet been given, but without a brief 
sketch of which our narrative would be incomplete. 

The legendary literature of the world teems with 
wonderful stories of haunted houses, where invisible 
spirits were believed to utter mysterious sounds, to 
perform extraordinary pranks, and sometimes com- 
municate revelations of the future, or disclose the 
dread secrets of the hidden world. These beliefs, 
though strongest and most prevalent where the Gos- 
pel is unknown or least influential, are not peculiar 
to generations " of old time," or to any particular 
nation under heaven. And one of the most remark- 
able and best authenticated tales of this description, 
in comparatively modern times, is connected with the 
Epworth parsonage. 

On the first of December, 1716, when night had 
mantled the rectory with her shadow, the maid heard 
a " terrible and astonishing* noise," like " the dismal 
groans of one in extremes, at the point to die." 
Strange knockings, commonly three-times-three — the 
rector's own peculiar rap at the door — and too " loud 
and hollow " to be imitated, were soon heard by the 
whole family. The signal of approach was as " the 
swift revolution of a windmill, when the wind 
changes ;" or the " quick winding up of a jack, just 
like the running of the wheels and creaking of the 
iron -work." Then followed rumblings in the lower 



EPWORTH. 127 

rooms and in the garret ; rapid footsteps, as of a 
man " walking up stairs in jack-boots," trailing a 
nightgown after him; gobblings like a turkey-cock; 
and dancings in an empty room, whose door was 
locked. Casements clattered. Warming-pans and 
every vessel of brass and iron rang out a discord of 
strange sounds. Latches moved up and down with 
uncommon swiftness. Without the touch of human 
hand, doors flew open, banged, and violently pushed 
against those who sought to pass from one room to 
another. Lumps of coal seemed dashed upon hard 
floors, and shivered into a thousand pieces; or the 
bright pewter service to leap from its resting-place 
on the shelves. Boots and shoes appeared to whirl 
and move without any visible cause. Hoards of sil- 
ver coin fell jingling on the floor, which made Samuel 
ask, " Have you dug in the place where the money 
seemed poured out at your feet?" The house shook 
from top to bottom. The sleeping children began to 
moan and sweat. The wind rose, whistled, and howled 
in dismal cadences. The mastiff whined and trembled, 
hurrying to some human presence for protection. 
The rector's trencher once danced upon the table at 
the Sunday dinner, " without any body touching it ; 
when, lo ! an adventurous wretch took it up and 
spoiled the sport, for it remained still ever after- 
ward." Three different times was the minister him- 
self jostled by this invisible power. The bed on which 
Nancy sat was "lifted up several times to a consid- 
erable hight." She leaped off, exclaiming, " Surely 



128 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

Old Jeffery will not run away with me !" "While 
Sukey was writing her last letter to Mr. S., " it made 
a great noise all round the room ; and the night after 
she left for London, it knocked till morning, with 
scarce any intermission." The prayers for the King 
and the Prince of Wales were specially obnoxious to 
it. The loud demonstrations against His Majesty 
brought it under the suspicion of being a Jacobite, 
and a great enemy of " our sovereign lord, the 
King." This provoked the loyal rector to offer three 
prayers for the royal family instead of two; and 
Samuel declared that if he were King he would 
"rather Old Nick were his enemy than his friend." 
When Nancy swept the rooms, Jeffery followed her, 
like a second person doing it over again, she think- 
ing, meanwhile, it might as well have done it in 
reality and saved her the trouble. The corn-mill 
whirled round for a time with great velocity, and 
Robin declared had it been full instead of empty, Old 
Jeffery might have " ground his heart out before he 
would have stopped him." 

Though heard by all, the references to Jeffery' s 
visible manifestation are not so conclusive. Sitting 
moodily by the back kitchen fire in a fit of illness, 
Robin thought he saw " something like a small rabbit 
coming out of the copper-hole, its ears flat upon its 
neck, and its little scut straight up." It "turned 
round five times very swiftly." Robin ran after it 
with the tongs; but the mysterious creature vanished 
away, and the valiant plow-boy "ran to the maid in 



EPWORTH. 129 

the parlor." Mrs. Wesley supposed she saw under 
the bed "something like a badger without a head" 
run quickly away; and Robin thought he caught a 
glimpse of the same creature sitting by the drawing- 
room fire, but when he approached it rushed past 
him and disappeared. If these statements fail to 
prove the visible appearance of this disturber of the 
Wesley family, they in no degree, as Southey justly 
observes, "invalidate the other parts of the story, 
which rest upon the concurrent testimony of many 
intelligent witnesses." 

If attributed to any other than supernatural causes, 
the noises became perfectly outrageous. Though 
often adjured to tell the purpose of its coming, 
Jeffery maintained a perfect silence. The study 
remained free from intrusion till the rector called 
it "a deaf and dumb devil," and bade it come to him 
if it had any thing to say, and not frighten young and 
helpless children. Jeffery immediately announced his 
acceptance of the challenge by imitating Wesley's 
peculiar knock at the gate with a violence which 
threatened to shiver the boards in pieces. Hence- 
forth it visited the study as freely as the garret or 
the nursery, and thought no more of disturbing the 
clergyman in his meditations than the children in 
their sleep. 

These annoyances continued eight or nine weeks. 
When first heard they were supposed to portend or 
announce the death of some member of the family. 
Several days passed away before they were per- 



130 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. * 

ceived by the rector; and as such sounds, according 
to vulgar opinion, were not audible to the person 
whose evil they foreboded, they refrained from tell- 
ing him, lest he should think it betokened his own 
departure. But when the disturbances became so 
loud and frequent that none of the family durst be 
alone, Mrs. Wesley informed him of the entire cir- 
cumstances, and intimated her belief in their super- 
natural character. " Sukey," said he, in a somewhat 
wrathful manner, "I am ashamed of you. These 
boys and girls frighten one another, but you are a 
woman of sense and should know better. Let me 
hear of it no more." The answer rather vexed the 
young ladies, who devoutly wished he might now 
hear it himself — a wish speedily gratified. The very 
next night he was roused from his slumbers by nine 
loud and distinct knocks, as from a heavy staff upon 
a chest. He rose and prosecuted a strict search 
from room to room, where the noises were heard, 
and was fully convinced that they could only be . 
produced by supernatural causes. 

All fears for the rector's life being dispersed, the 
family began to dread that the eldest son in London 
had met with a violent death. The thought became 
so painful that it could be endured no longer, and 
the afflicted father resolved to seek some favorable 
moment to interrogate Jeffery on the subject. He 
went into Nancy's room and adjured it to speak; 
but "there was no voice, neither any to answer." 
" These spirits love darkness," he exclaimed ; " put 



EPWORTH. 131 

out the candle and perhaps it will speak." Still there 
was only the usual knocking, and, to Nancy's great 
joy, no articulate sound. Thinking that " two Chris- 
tians were an overmatch for the devil," he ordered 
all down stairs, hoping it wo.uld have "courage to 
speak when he was alone." Failing to get a positive 
answer, he resolved to solicit a negative one : " If 
thou art the spirit of my son Samuel, I pray thee 
knock three knocks, and no more." Immediately all 
was silent, and remained so during the night. Mrs. 
Wesley earnestly prayed that the noises might not 
be heard in her own room, during her hour of devo- 
tion, from five to six in the evening. Her prayer 
was answered, and she was never troubled while so 
engaged. 

The family soon became so accustomed to these 
ghostly proceedings that all dread passed away, and 
they were a source of amusement to the younger 
inhabitants of the parsonage. When the gentle tap- 
ping at the bed's head began they would say : " Old 
Jeffery is coming; it is time to go to sleep." When 
the noises were heard in the day-time, little Kezzy 
chased the sounds from room to room, desiring no 
better amusement than to hear the mysterious an- 
swers to the stamp of her own foot. The tidings 
of these wonders spread abroad ; others besides the 
Wesleys sat up and listened to them; and they 
became the absorbing topic of discourse in the 
whole neighborhood. " Send me some news," writes 
Sukey to her brother; "for we are excluded from 



132 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

the sight or hearing of any versal thing except 
Jeffery." 

"Any author," says Southey, "who in this age 
relates such a story, and treats it as not utterly 
incredible and absurd, must expect to be ridiculed. 
But the testimony on which it rests is far too strong 
to be set aside because of the strangeness of the 
relation." For any such ridicule we are prepared. 
We have threaded together the leading facts and 
circumstances from a careful examination of all avail- 
able documents, and the story, as told by the Wesley 
family, we most assuredly believe. But where and 
what is the most likely solution of the difficulties 
which it presents? To this question divers answers 
have been given. Rats were regarded, in the first 
instance, as the cause of these mysterious sounds, 
and a horn was vigorously blown about the house 
for nearly a whole day; but as the noises continued, 
and many of them being such as no irrational crea- 
tures could imitate, this notion was soon abandoned. 
One of the family firmly believed it to be witchcraft, 
because the rector "had for several Sundays before its 
coming preached warmly against consulting cunning 
men"- — a habit very common among his parishioners. 
Then came the conclusion that the whole was the 
result of trickery practiced by the servants, aided by 
some of the neighbors. But all the means employed 
to discover any such deception utterly failed; and 
no man who carefully studies the minute accounts 
of the whole affair will adopt this solution. John 



EPWORTH. 133 

Wesley believed it was a messenger of Satan, sent 
to buffet his father for his rash vow to leave his 
family in consequence of his wife refusing to say 
amen to the prayer for the king. Had the noises 
been heard immediately after the event to which 
reference is made, there might have been some show 
of reason in this solution; but what these noises had 
to do with circumstances said to have occurred six- 
teen years before it is hard to divine. Clarke throws 
out a hint that the house was probably haunted, 
and tells a story about the murder of a burglar 
while attempting to break into the parsonage. But 
this would only cut the knot ; and the tale of murder, 
as he acknowledges, rests on mere rumor. Coleridge 
is very positive, and says : " This, indeed, I take to 
be the true and only solution: a contagious nervous 
disease — the acme or intensest form of which is 
catalepsy." There is no answering this dogmatic 
settling of the matter; but we feel that, in view of 
all the circumstances of the case, it makes a greater 
demand upon our faith than even a miracle itself. 

Stevens, the American historian of Methodism, has 
suggested that the noises in the parsonage " were 
strikingly similar to marvels which, in our own times, 
have suddenly spread over most of the civilized world, 
perplexing the learned, deluding the ignorant, pro- 
ducing a " spiritualistic " literature of hundreds of 
volumes and periodicals, and resulting in extensive 
Church organizations/' "We willingly disclaim all 
pretensions to learning in the lore of this modern 



134 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

spiritualism. But if, as competent authorities assert, 
there are subtile forces in nature which, under certain 
conditions, can be brought into play and so controlled 
as to produce these particular sounds, there is a ready 
solution of these much-vaunted mysteries. We do 
not deny that, in many respects, the noises at Ep- 
worth and those common to what are called spirit- 
rapping, are strikingly similar. But in many of their 
leading features they are wide as the poles asunder. 
In the parsonage there was no darkened room, no 
careful preparation, no " medium " in whom these 
mystic forces are said to inhere, and at whose will 
they are ready to rush forth into active operation. 
The full explanation of Jeffery's movements, we are 
persuaded, can not be found here.* 

There have been solutions of a more ambitious 
character. Isaac Taylor, deeply versed in philo- 
sophic speculations, and for whose transcendent tal- 
ents and eminent services to true Christianity we 
have the profoundest respect, has dealt with Old 
Jeffery after a fashion of his own. " Once in a cen- 
tury, or not so often," he writes, "on a Summer's 
evening, a stray Arabian locust — a genuine son of 

* The English editor of Stevens's work thinks it " not at all un- 
likely that, at first, the wind shook the rickety old building about, 
and, whistling through unknown crevices, produced sounds which 
none could, at the time, explain." This excited fears, which, in 
turn, brought in the supernatural element to account for the noises. 
Without discussing this ready solution, we may just remind the 
writer, that what he calls " the rickety old building," was the sub- 
stantial parsonage standing at this day, and which had not been 
built more than six or seven years when the noises were heard ! 



EPWORTH. 135 

the desert — tempest-borne, we know not how, has 
alighted in Hyde Park, or elsewhere. This rare oc- 
currence, and which it is so difficult to explain, is 
indeed out of the course of nature ; but it is not su- 
pernatural ; certainly it is not a religious event. Nor 
to judge of them by their apparent characteristics 
are many other occurrences, similar to the Epworth 
rectory noises and disturbances, to be thought of as 
touching any religious question. In truth, there is 
nothing in these facts of a celestial complexion ; nor 
are they grave enough to be reputed infernal. We 
can incur no risk of committing sacrilege when we 
deal with occult folk, such as ' Jeffery,' huffingly and 
disrespectfully. Almost, while intent upon these 
quaint performances, one seems to catch a glimpse 
of a creature — half-intelligent, or idiotic — whose 
pranks are like one that, using a brief opportunity 
given it by chance, is going to the extent of its 
tether in freaks of bootless mischief. Why may not 
this be thought? Around us, as most believe, are 
beings of a high order, whether good or evil, and 
yet not cognizable by the senses of man. But the 
analogies of the visible world favor the supposition 
that, besides these, there are orders, or species, of 
all grades, and some, perhaps, not more intelligent 
than apes or than pigs. That these species have 
no liberty, ordinarily, to infringe upon the solid 
world is manifest; nevertheless, chances or mis- 
chances may, in long cycles of time, throw some — 
like the Arabian locust — over his boundary, and give 



136 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

him an hour's leave to disport himself among things 
palpable." 

This is, indeed, speculative philosophy ; but is it in 
jest or in earnest? "We venture to believe that the 
amiable author would find some difficulty in reconcil- 
ing its principles in this case with the principles of 
his Christianity. " The mistake," he tells us, " is, 
when such occurrences are not of a kind that can be 
rejected as tricks or fictions, immediately to attribute 
to them a religious meaning, or to see in them the 
hand of Heaven." Admitting his theory, that there 
are round about us orders of all grades, " and some, 
perhaps, not more intelligent than apes or than pigs ;" 
and that, " in long cycles of time," one of these may 
be " thrown over his boundary," and obtain " an 
hour's leave to disport himself among things palpa- 
ble;" still we ask, Are not all things — whether in 
the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the 
waters under the earth — subject to Divine control? 
Are not the bounds of their habitation fixed by Di- 
vine appointment? And can any one of them, from 
the least even unto the greatest, be thrown over his 
boundary and " disport himself among things palpa- 
ble " by mere " chance or mischance ?" Supposing 
such an event to occur, would it be any " mistake" 
to see in it " the hand of Heaven ?" And even in 
so apparently trivial a circumstance as an Arabian 
locust, " tempest-borne, we know not how," alighting 
in Hyde Park, "once in a century, or not so often," 
would there be any "mistake" if we saw the wise 



EPWORTH. 137 

disposal of Him in whose hand is the breath of every 
living thing ? " Are not two sparrows sold for a 
farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground 
without your Father." Mr. Taylor's reasoning is cer- 
tainly curious, and probably original; but as a solu- 
tion of the difficulty in question, it is most unsatis- 
factory, and leaves us just where it found us. 

Southey did himself honor by the way in which he 
treated this most perplexing subject. Priestly, who 
first collected and published the family letters in re- 
lation to it, observed that it was " perhaps the best 
authenticated and best told story of the kind extant." 
But he argued, that where no good end was to be 
answered, we may safely conclude that no miracle 
was wrought. " It may safely be asserted," replied 
Southey, "that many of the circumstances can not 
be explained by any such supposition," as a trick of 
the servants ; " nor by any legerdemain ; nor by ven- 
triloquism ; nor by any secret of acoustics. The 
former argument would be valid, if the term miracle 
were applicable to the case. But by miracle Doctor 
Priestly evidently intends a manifestation of Divine 
power ; and in the present instance no such manifest- 
ation is supposed, any more than in the appearance 
of a departed spirit. Such things may be preternat- 
ural, and yet not miraculous. They may be not in 
the ordinary course of nature, and yet imply no al- 
teration of its laws. And with regard to the good 
end which they may be supposed to answer, it would 

be end sufficient if sometimes one of those unhappy 
12 



138 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

persons, who, looking through the dim glass of infi- 
delity, see nothing beyond this life, and the narrow 
sphere of mortal existence, from the well-established 
truth of one such story— trifling and objectless as it 
might otherwise appear — be led to a conclusion, that 
there are more things in heaven and earth than are 
dreamt of in their philosophy." 

And were none of those keen and inquiring minds 
in the Epworth rectory in danger of looking through 
the dim glass of infidelity and seeing nothing beyond 
this life ? Let the following passage from a letter of 
Emilia Wesley, whose temptations to unbelief were 
unusually strong, be carefully pondered in this con- 
nection. " I am so far from being superstitious, that 
I was too much inclined to infidelity ; so that I heart- 
ily rejoice at having such an opportunity of convincing 
myself, past doubt or scruple, of the existence of some 
beings besides (hose we see. A whole month was suffi- 
cient to convince any body of the reality of the thing, 
and to try all ways of discovering any trick, had it 
been possible for any such to have been used." 

After all, my own opinion about Jeffery and his 
mysterious movements is very much like that of young 
Samuel Wesley, expressed at the time. " My mother," 
he wrote, " sends to me to know my thoughts of it, 
and I can not think at all of any interpretation. Wit, 
I fancy, might find many, but wisdom none." Wit 
has, indeed, found many ; but whether that "wit" has 
always been in combination with " wisdom," the readers 
of the foregoing solutions may now be able to judge. 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 139 



VI. 

THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 

*■• A parish priest — not of the pilgrim kind, 

But fix'd'and faithful to the post assign'd — 
Through various scenes with equal virtue trod — 
True to his oath, his order, and his God. 

Samuel Wesley, jr. 

The last chapter has shown us how wild and even 
malignant against all that was good the generality 
of the Epworth parishioners were during the earlier 
years of Wesley's ministry among them. Though 
professedly members of the Established Church, with 
only " one Presbyterian and one Papist," like a 
solitary Canaanite in the land, "to balance him/' 
the Sabbath congregations were exceedingly small. 
The communicants at the holy sacrament of the 
Supper seldom numbered twenty. The baptism of 
children was either totally neglected, or so long 
delayed that the "monsters of men-children brought 
to the font" made the minister's arms ache with 
their weight, while their "manful voices disturbed 
and alarmed the whole congregation." Many of the 
islanders had also gained a bad preeminence in various 
gross immoralities, and keenly resented any attempt 
for their reformation. 



140 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

With his eminent abilities and scholarly attain- 
ments, an intelligent city congregation would have 
been a far more congenial sphere for Samuel Wesley's 
labors than this rudest corner of Lincolnshire; while 
humbler talents and less refinement would probably 
have been more acceptable and useful to this rural 
flock. But, notwithstanding these heavy discourage- 
ments, he gave himself to his work with all the 
energy of a man of God, and all the ardor of an 
embassador for Christ. And in order to a correct 
and comprehensive view of the connection of the 
Wesleys with Epworth it is necessary to glance at 
the rector among his flock, and endeavor to ascertain 
the result of his thirty-nine years' parochial toil in 
the moral wilderness of Axholme. 

The first thing which arrests our attention is the 
zealous and systematic way in which he discharged 
the important duty of pastoral visitation. He was 
no recluse in his parish. From the very strong 
and general impression about his extensive learn- 
ing, studious habits, and marvelous, propensity for 
"rhyming," he has been too commonly regarded as a 
mere hard-working student, passing his time between 
the pulpit and the study — occupying his position as 
a parish priest for the purposes of "learned leisure" 
rather than the " cure of souls ;" never moving among 
his people or mixing in their society. This is an 
entire mistake. He cultivated toward his flock what 
he happily calls a " well-ordered familiarity." There 
was not a parishioner whom he did not know by name, 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 141 

and for whom he had not a kindly greeting when- 
ever he crossed his path. In addition to the most 
sedulous attention to the sick, and that general in- 
tercourse which every clergyman must necessarily 
have with the people of his charge, Samuel Wesley 
compelled himself to a more systematic, searching, 
solemn visitation of his parish at different and dis- 
tant intervals; and on these occasions he went from 
house to house till his whole allotted sphere of labor, 
which was nearly three miles long, had been com- 
passed. 

This was not a visitation for mere pastoral gossip, 
making himself agreeable in trifles, attempting to 
compensate by bland intercourse for the lack of 
faithful duty. It was a real shepherding of the 
flock — a downright dealing with the heart and con- 
science. " Who can read ? who can say their prayers 
and catechisms? who have been confirmed? who have 
received the communion or are of age to do it? and 
who have prayers in their families?" — these were 
the solemn inquiries which he pressed home upon his 
people. Moving among them as a minister of God, 
charged to give a good account of the souls com- 
mitted to his care, "he sifted their creed, and per- 
mitted none of them to be corrupt in their opinions 
or practice without instruction or reproof." In this 
special manner he had gone three times through his 
parish, carefully noting down the results, and was 
prosecuting his fourth visitation when overtaken by 
his last affliction. When trembling with age and 



142 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

manifld infirmities he reports to his Diocesan: 
"Looking a little among my people, I found there 
were two strangers come hither, both of whom I 
have discovered to be Papists, though they come to 
church; and I have hopes of making one or both of 
them good members of the Church of England." 

All this was a beautiful illustration of the apos- 
tolic advice: "Be instant in season, out of season; 
reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and 
doctrine." Two or three instances of the manner in 
which he used to reprove sin are well worth quoting. 
None of them come under the class of ordinary re- 
proof; and we record them less as examples to be 
followed than as illustrations of character. They 
show clearly that Samuel Wesley was not afraid to 
risk something when he thought his duty required 
him to lift up his voice in rebuking evil. 

To one of his respectable parishioners he adminis- 
tered a reproof after a fashion of his own, and not 
without a touch of that stern humor which he so 
greatly relished. Taking advantage of his well- 
known leniency, many of his unprincipled hearers 
defrauded him of the "tithes and offerings" to which 
he had an unquestionable right. At one time there 
was a combination among them to give him as much 
trouble as possible, by paying their dues only "in 
kind;" and even then they did not hesitate to lay 
dishonest hands on his appointed "tenth." Going 
one day into the field where the tithe-corn was laid 
out for removal, he found a farmer deliberately cut- 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 143 

ting off the ears of wheat, and putting them into a 
bag, with intent to appropriate them to his own use. 
Without saying a word the rector took the delinquent 
by the arm and walked with him into the market- 
place. Seizing the bag, he turned out the corn before 
all the people, and told them what the culprit had 
been doing. He then left him with his pilfered 
spoils to the judgment of his neighbors, and quietly 
walked home. This clearly was not all that the 
sacrilegious thief deserved; but the moral influence 
of such a reproof upon the offender himself and the 
parishioners generally, as well as upon the minister's 
own position and character in the eyes of his rude 
flock, was no doubt far more wholesome than a magis- 
terial committal, and a month's hard labor at the 
tread-mill. 

Another illustration of his mode of reproof savors 
more of the playful and the humorous. At Temple 
Belwood, not far from Epworth, lived a poor miserly 
wretch, who was hardly ever known to dine a friend, 
or relieve a case of distress. Coming under a mo- 
mentary impulse of another kind, he invited "Wesley 
and a select circle of friends to dinner. As soon as 
the repast was ended, the clergyman, being requested 
to return thanks, delivered the following impromptu 
grace : 

" Thanks for this feast ! for 't is no less 
Than eating manna in the wilderness. 
Here meager famine bears controlless sway, 
And ever drives each fainting wretch away; 
Yet here — how beyond a saint's belief! — 



144 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

We 've seen the glories of a chine of beef: 

Here chimneys smoke which never smoked before, 

And we have dined where we shall dine no more !" 

However much we may admire the cleverness and 
wit of a reproof like this, we can not sympathize 
with the way in which the sarcastic, the playful, and 
the religious are mingled in an act of devotion. 
Wesley probably thought the strange compound of 
oddity and avarice, at whose expense he had just 
dined, was insensible to any reproof of an ordinary 
kind, and therefore adopted this remarkable course in 
hope that it might make an impression which would 
produce better thoughts. If so, he was disappointed. 
It is said that immediately after the last line — 

" And we have dined where we shall dine no more 1" — 

had fallen from his lips, the old man exclaimed, in 
unmistakable tones : " No, gentlemen ; for it is sadly 
too expensive !" How true are the words of Inspira- 
tion : " Though thou shouldst bray a fool in a mortar 
among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolish- 
ness depart from him !" You " may separate the 
straw and the chaff by thrashing; you may take off 
the husk by rubbing and trituration ; you may turn 
the grain to meal or flour by grinding; but to drive 
folly from the human heart is more than man can do." 
The following illustration of Wesley's fertile inven- 
tion and fearlessness in the discharge of this difficult 
duty, exhibits a happier and more successful result. 
Dining one day at a London coffee-house, he saw a 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 145 

small company of gentlemen at the other end of the 
room. One of them, an officer in the Guards, kept 
pouring forth a succession of profane oaths. Know- 
ing he could not speak to him directly without great 
difficulty, he ordered the waiter to bring a glass of 
water, and said, loud enough to be heard, " Carry it 
to that gentleman in the red coat, and desire him to 
wash his mouth after his oaths !" The officer rose 
in a fury ; but his companions restrained him, saying : 
"Nay, Colonel, you gave the first offense. You see 
the gentleman is a clergyman. You know it is an 
offense to swear in his presence." Many years after- 
ward, while walking in Saint James Park, he met a 
gentleman who inquired if he had ever- seen him be- 
fore. All recollection of him had passed from Wes- 
ley's mind. The stranger then adverted to the scene 
in the coffee-house, and said : " Since that time, sir, 
I thank God, I have feared an oath, and every thing 
that is offensive to the Divine Majesty ; and as I 
have a perfect recollection of you, I rejoiced at see- 
ing you, and could not refrain from expressing my 
gratitude to God and you." "Blessed are they that 
sow beside all waters !" Many of these words of the 
wise shall be as " bread cast upon the waters, found 
after many days." 0, how would vice be restrained 
and religion promoted if all the Lord's people obeyed 
that ancient precept : " Thou shalt in any wise rebuke 
thy neighbor, and shalt not suffer sin upon him!" 
Samuel Wesley took a deep, though by no means a 

meddling, interest in all parochial business wherein 
13 



146 THE MOTHEK OF THE WESLEYS. 

he was concerned as the minister of the parish. 
During Rogation-Week he headed the annual pro- 
cession of the authorities and the rising generation, 
waving the orthodox willow wand, in "beating the 
boundary." The practice, he thought, "might have 
prevented a great deal of loss to the parish and the 
minister,- if it had been constantly done formerly." 
He was most conscientious in the administration of 
all public charities, and took a kindly interest in the 
welfare of the deserving poor. The sacramental col- 
lections, to " which he always gave something himself, 
for example more than any conceived obligation," he 
disposed of according to a definite regulation. Three 
parts were given to the funds of the charity school, 
and " the fourth reserved in bank for such poor sick 
people as had no constant relief from the parish, and 
who came to the Sacrament." This was clearly an 
arrangement made of his own free will, and not 
forced upon him by external pressure. The afflicted, 
" whether in mind, body, or estate," had in him an 
ever-ready and sympathizing friend. Often did he 
contribute of his own scant income, and exert his 
influence with his well-to-do neighbors, to rescue 
some honest, but unfortunate, parishioner from pecu- 
niary embarrassment, or save him from a debtor's 
prison, and his family from beggary and ruin. 

His administration of discipline was exceedingly 
strict and impartial. Though never going beyond 
the treatment or penalty prescribed by the ecclesias- 
tical laws, it was nevertheless sometimes harsh and - 



THE RECTOK IN HIS PARISH. 147 

severe- One crime, which we need not more partic- 
ularly indicate, was very prevalent among his rude 
and ignorant flock ; and he resolved to employ every 
appliance which the laws of the Church placed in his 
hands to arrest its progress, and make the guilty 
ones ashamed of their criminal courses. When the 
offenders were what he quaintly calls "lean couples," 
he undertook "to see the court charges defrayed, 
which," he adds, "I hope will be as moderate as pos- 
sible, because most of it is like to come out of my 
own pocket." There were, however, many "fat cou- 
ples," guarded "with impenetrable brass." Against 
these, in consequence of the free use of this formi- 
dable means of defense, it was no small matter to 
bring home the charges so as to secure a conviction. 
But he resolved to do his duty, and, as far as pos- 
sible, carry out the provisions of Church discipline 
irrespective of the station or quality of the offender. 
" I ever thought it my duty," he writes, " since I 
have been the minister of any parish, to present 
those persons who were obnoxious to it, if the 
church-wardens neglected it, unless where the crim- 
inal was so sturdy and so wealthy, as that I was 
morally certain I could not do it without my own 
inconvenience or ruin; in which case God does not 
require it of me." 

Conscientiously acting upon these principles, it was 
sometimes his painful duty to withhold " the cup of 
the Lord " from the " sturdy offender " who had out- 
raged morality, and refused to make some amends 



148 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

by submitting to the demands of discipline. And 
sometimes another form of punishment, far more se- 
vere and shameful, was adopted. The criminal was 
seen standing for three successive Sabbaths on the 
damp mud floor in the center of the church, without 
shoes or stockings ; bareheaded ; covered with a white 
sheet ; and shivering with cold. This was " doing 
penance ;" and the offender publicly stood forth as a 
warning to others, that they might not follow his 
pernicious ways. We know not whether these sever- 
ities recovered any out of the snare of the devil, 
or prevented others being led captive at his will ; but 
we certainly rejoice that these public " spectacles " in 
our churches, however common in earlier times, are 
now numbered with the things which are passing 
away, and not likely to be revived. 

Having traced his movements among his parish- 
ioners, let us enter the sacred edifice on the Lord's 
day, and mark his behavior in the house of God. He 
conducted the public services of the Church with be- 
coming solemnity ; yet with an ease and freedom 
sufficient to arrest attention and awaken devotional 
feeling. In reading the incomparable Liturgy, he 
" endeavored to avoid that dead and unpleasing mo- 
notony of too many, who speak out of the ground in 
one heavy tenor, without life or devotion." He also 
shunned "the other extreme, no less grating on a 
judicious ear, of unequal cadences and incondite 
whinings ; laying weight where there ought to be 
none," or omitting it where it is requisite. To him, 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 149 

" reading prayers " was a religious privilege and Di- 
vine duty to be solemnly enjoyed and performed. 
He never impressed his congregation that he was 
going through a piece of religious task-work, "gal- 
loping over the office in so much more haste than 
good speed, as to distance all the congregation, and 
leave them panting and breathless behind." His con- 
stant endeavor was to "read the prayers commend- 
ably, to the glory of God and the edification of his 
people." 

He regarded psalmody as " the most elevated part 
of public worship." Notwithstanding his love for 
" anthems and cathedral music," he was willing to 
forego his own preferences for the sake of his uned- 
ucated flock, and allowed "the novel way of paro- 
chial singing." Preferring Brady and Tate to "the 
sorry Sternhold-Psalms, he nevertheless yielded to 
the wish of the common people for " Grandsire Stern- 
hold," because, having, as he says, " a strange genius 
at understanding nonsense," they understood the 
" Old Version " better than the " New." Discarding 
the lazy and inharmonious drawlings of a choir of 
ignorant and self-important rustics, he resolutely set 
himself to teach the congregation and children the 
Divine art of sacred song. His efforts were so suc- 
cessful that he declares, " they did sing well after it 
had cost a pretty deal to teach them." 

This is the most appropriate place to glance at one 
or two curious incidents, said to be connected with 
this part of the public worship. The Ep worth parish 



150 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

clerk had a strong touch of vanity in his composition. 
He regarded his master as the greatest man in the 
town ; and as he stood nearest to him in Church min- 
istrations, he seemed to think himself second only in 
worth and importance, especially when he donned the 
cast-off clerical coat and wig. The rector's head 
was broad and massive ; John's small and contracted, 
which the bushy substitute for hair almost buried. 
Anxious to reprove the old man's vanity, Wesley re- 
solved to mortify him by making him a mirthful 
spectacle to the congregation. " John," said he, " I 
shall preach on a particular subject to-day, and shall 
therefore choose my own psalm. I will give out the 
first line, and you shall then proceed as usual." 
When the time arrived for " psalm before sermon," 
the rector gave out the following line : 

" Like to an owl in ivy bush jV 

and when it had been duly sung, John, peeping out 
from under the large wig, announced, with audible 
voice and appropriate connecting twang, the ready 
response, 

" That rueful thing am I." 

The coincidence was too striking not to arrest the 
attention even of that somewhat stolid congregation, 
and a general, hearty laugh was the result. John 
was mortified, and the rector rejoiced in the success 
of his stratagem. 

This is the version of the story as given by Doctor 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 151 

Clarke, who says he received it from John Wesley. 
He also regards it as characteristic of the rector of 
Epworth, and an " innocent," as well as " appropri- 
ate and efficient " means of curing a simple man of 
his vanity. The rector had certainly a keen sense 
of the ridiculous, and heartily relished a little broad 
fun. Had the scene been any other than the sanc- 
tuary of God, and the employment of the moment 
unassociated with solemn public worship, we can 
readily believe he would not hesitate to arrange a 
scheme for curing a simpleton of excessive self-con- 
ceit. But his reverential regard for every thing con- 
nected with public worship, and the extreme care 
which he took to perform it in a solemn and becom- 
ing manner, convince us that he would never pre- 
meditate and commit such an unseemly act in the 
house of God. 

John Wesley no doubt related correctly what had 
been reported to him ; and it may be that Clarke has 
penned the story, as " nearly as he can remember," 
in the narrator's " own words." But even then, there 
are circumstances which incline us to think that there 
may have been glosses and inaccuracies before it 
reached John Wesley's ear. The clerk was an odd- 
ity, and in his ignorant simplicity was more than 
once the occasion of a general smile in the congre- 
gation. He sometimes took unwarrantable liberties 
in his precentorship, and gave out doggerel far' worse 
than the " sorry Sternhold-Psalms." One Sunday, 
determined to celebrate the king's recent return to 



152 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

London, he startled the assembly by exclaiming, in a 
loud voice, "Let us sing to the praise and glory of 
God, an hymn of mine own composing : 

King William is come home, come home ! 

King William home is come 1 
Therefore let us together sing 

The hymn that 's called Te D'um V 

This abounding simplicity would utterly unfit the 
worthy clerk for any ready appreciation of ludicrous 
coincidences, and we should not be surprised even if 
he did give out the curious lines about " an owl in 
ivy bush," without perceiving their striking applica- 
tion to his own grotesque appearance. We have 
given ourselves a great deal of trouble to find the 
psalm in which these lines occur, and a few friends 
learned in " old versions " have rendered us their 
ready help. But our united researches have failed to 
discover it. There is certainly nothing like it in 
Sternhold and Hopkins, whose version was used in 
the Epworth church. We never saw more of it than 
the two lines quoted, and the most confident advo- 
cates of the genuineness of the story have not con- 
descended to hint at its authorship, or point to the 
version, or collection, in which it may be found. 
Was it another of the worthy clerk's " hymns of his 
own composing?" Judging from the authentic spec- 
imen of his poetic powers already quoted, it would 
be somewhere about his mark ; and if any such coup- 
let ever greeted the ears of the congregation, this, as 
far as we can now see, is the most probable explana- 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 153 

tion. At the risk, therefore, of being called " a pet- 
ulant critic, worthy of little notice, unacquainted with 
the whole business, misled by report, and should have 
held his peace," we do believe that the part attrib- 
uted to Samuel Wesley in Doctor Clarke's version 
of the anecdote, implicates him in an irreverent act 
in the house of God of which he was incapable, and 
which, if true, would deserve the severest possible 
reprehension, rather than the slightest praise. 

We have taken considerable pains to form a just 
estimate of Samuel Wesley's pulpit services — a some- 
what difficult task with the scant materials at our 
disposal. Our general impression is that, as a 
preacher, he was " thoroughly furnished ;" a " work- 
man that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing 
the word of truth." The Bible, which, in his own 
words, " contains an unfathomable mine of heavenly 
treasure, capable so richly to recompense and over- 
balance all our pains and labor," was the subject of 
his deepest study. His knowledge of the originals 
of the Sacred Text was extensive. The study of He- 
brew and its cognate languages was with him a strong 
passion. Without a competent skill in these, he 
says, " we must take God's meaning upon trust from 
others. And if we borrow our bucket, or make use 
of canals, the water may be, and generally is, tinged 
in the drawing or passage ; which we may have much 
clearer and sweeter if we ourselves will but be at the 
pains to fetch it at the fountain-head; without which 
I should look upon the most famed and popular 



154 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

preacher to be little better than a retailer in divinity." 
In addition to a creditable knowledge of the works 
of the fathers and the earlier writers, he had read 
and studied the best theological treatises issued from 
the English press. His notices of the leading writ- 
ers of all denominations clearly show that he was not 
merely well up in title-pages and tables of contents, 
but that he had mastered the works themselves. He 
was no smatterer in theology, but a sound, able, well- 
read divine. 

His discourses, generally carefully prepared, were 
delivered with considerable freedom, and often with- 
out notes. Most sincerely hating, as he tells us, 
" what some people call a fine sermon with just 
nothing in it," he strove, in good and vigorous En- 
glish, to make the common people understand "the 
Gospel of God our Savior." Here a sprightly turn 
of thought; there a homely illustration, drawn from 
the scenes and occupations around him; and, anon, 
a weighty appeal to the conscience — all tended to 
interest and impress his hearers. In a "warm and 
practical sermon," some prevailing sin or supersti- 
tion of the neighborhood was frequently exposed and 
denounced. Perhaps he dwelt at disproportionate 
length upon denying ungodliness and worldly lust, 
instead of giving greater prominence to the privilege 
of a present and conscious salvation. Yet, thoroughly 
believing the blessed truth that by the grace of God 
Jesus Christ tasted death for every man, he shunned 
not to declare the whole counsel of God. The fact 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 155 

that he was frequently sent to London as " convo- 
cation man" indicates that he was of good standing 
and a minister of some note in his own diocese; 
while the request to preach the annual sermon before 
the Society for the Reformation of Manners clearly 
shows that he stood forth as one of the best and 
most prominent preachers of his day. 

The public festivals of the Church were most care- 
fully observed by the rector of Epworth. "Every 
holiday, "Wednesday, and Friday " prayers were read, 
" and the second service at the altar." Instead of 
an annual sacramental gathering there was a regular 
monthly administration of the Lord's Supper. Al- 
though Sunday schools are of much later growth, 
the religious training of the rising generation was 
not overlooked. They were instructed in Bishop 
Beveridge's Catechism, and publicly catechised at in- 
tervals according to the requirements of the Rubric. 
They were also directed and encouraged to commit 
large portions of Scripture to memory, and in many 
cases with the most encouraging results. "I have 
known children," he says, "and some of them not 
of the best memories" — the lack of which "they 
made up with an indefatigable industry — who in 
twelve months' time, or less, have perfectly got the 
whole New Testament memoriter, and yet not inter- 
mitted their spinning or ordinary work." Occasion- 
ally he singled out a poor boy who gave early promise 
of more than ordinary mental power, taught him the 
elements of classical learning, opened his way to the 



156 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

University, and secured him a position in the ministry 
of the Church of England. 

These were the services which Samuel Wesley 
rendered, through a long life, to the people of his 
charge. As we calmly examine them in detail or in 
combination, the conviction forces itself irresistibly 
upon us, that he was one of the most exemplary 
and laborious parish priests of his times. And what 
were the results of this untiring, faithful, and long- 
continued ministry? For many years it was indeed 
like plowing the rock where there is no depth of 
earth, or casting the precious seed of the kingdom 
upon the hard-trodden wayside, where the birds of 
the air soon caught it away. "Yet herein God hath 
humbled many painful pastors in making them to be 
clouds to rain, not over Arabia the Happy, but over 
the Stony or Desert." This non-success in the 
highest human calling often caused grave thoughts 
in the Epworth parsonage; and not least so in the 
mind of Mrs. Wesley. She was sometimes strongly 
tempted to doubt whether her husband were in his 
right place. " Did I not know that Almighty Wisdom 
hath views and ends, in fixing the bounds of our 
habitation, which are out of our ken, I should think 
it a thousand pities that a man of his brightness, and 
rare endowments of learning, and useful knowledge 
in the Church of God should be confined to an ob- 
scure corner of the country, where his talents are 
buried, and he determined to a way of life for which 
he is not so well qualified as I could wish." 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 157 

The preaching of the Word is, in some places, 
"like the planting of woods, where, though no profit 
is received for twenty years together, it comes after- 
ward." This was never more applicable to the labors of 
any man than to those of Samuel Wesley at Epworth. 
He sowed with unfaltering hand, and for many years 
saw no fruit; but ere he departed the Autumn came. 
He saw " the full corn in the ear," and a few patches 
of the golden harvest ready for the reaper's sickle. 
The congregations had largely increased; the dozen 
communicants had multiplied to more than a hundred; 
and many happy deaths had antedated his own tri- 
umphant end. His son comforts him with the cheer- 
ing words, "As for the flock committed to your care, 
many of them the Great Shepherd has by your hand 
delivered from the hand of the Destroyer ; some of 
whom are already entered into peace, and some of 
whom remain unto this day. For yourself, I doubt 
not, when your warfare is accomplished, when you 
are made perfect through sufferings, you shall come 
to your grave, not with sorrow, but as a ripe shock 
of corn, full of years and victories; and He that 
took care of the sheep before you were born will 
not forget them when you are dead." 

He had outlived all hostility; conciliated and won 
the good-will of his former troublesome charge. A 
new generation, widely different from their fathers, 
mainly as the result of his own godly ministry, had 
grown up around him, and amid their tenderest sym- 
pathy he passed the quiet evening of life. Many 



158 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

. years after his decease Doctor Clarke sought out 
some of the aged parishioners who had known him 
and his communications in the days of his pastorate. 
His memory was still precious and fragrant in their 
recollection, and they spoke of him with the strongest 
affection and regard. 

While he thus steadily pursued his pulpit and pas- 
toral toils, he continued a most diligent student. He 
is confessedly allowed a good place, though not in 
the foremost rank, among the most learned men of 
his times in the sacred tongues and the literature of 
the Divine Word. He modestly speaks, indeed, of 
his "own sorry Latin;" and, while thanking God that 
his three sons had the knowledge of the languages in 
a very laudable degree, he says he " had never more 
than a smattering of any of them," and was " but 
indifferently learned in Hebrew." But the recondite 
studies in which he so much delighted, and the works 
which he published, are such as no mere "smatterer" 
could accomplish. When old and gray-headed, he 
went over the Pentateuch four times in one year, 
" collating the Hebrew and the two Greek, the Alex- 
andrine and the Vatican, with what he could get of 
Symmachus and Theodotion." He had made large 
preparations for a new and critical edition ,of the 
original Scriptures, for which he is believed to have 
possessed the requisite learning, industry, and care- 
fulness. His "Dissertations on the Book of Job," 
written in good and vigorous Latin, have been de- 
clared, by competent critics, to "evince profound 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 159 

learning." If, in reading his more elaborate writ- 
ings, he does not always gain our assent to his views, 
he never fails to command our admiration of the 
learning and ability with which they are expounded 
and enforced. Pope, who knew him well, says, in 
a letter to Swift : " I call him what he is — a learned 
man." He had the rare, if not unparalleled, honor 
of dedicating works to three successive queens of 
England ; namely, to Mary, Anne, and Caroline, 
Queen of George the Second. 

He was an early "dabbler in rhyme," and the 
poetic passion, sometimes wild and ungovernable, 
glowed to the last. His essays in this beautiful art 
have, we think, been somewhat underrated. Had he 
written less, and used the pruning-knife with a more 
relentless hand, his verse would have gained much in 
strength, compactness, and polish. But we could cull 
many a beautiful and fragrant flower from among the 
weeds of his poetic wilderness. There are passages 
whose vivid conceptions, even rhythm, well-finished 
rhyme, and vigorous diction indicate the presence 
and working of the true poetic power. His boyish 
pieces sparkle with wit, and are occasionally some- 
what coarse ; but his maturer verse is devout and 
earnestly religious. It fully deserves his son's eulo- 
gium: 

" Whate'er his strains, still glorious was his end — 
Faith to assert, and virtue to defend." 

And it must not be forgotten that from him, rather 
than from their mother, his gifted sons and daughters 



160 THE MOTHER OP THE LESLEYS. 

inherited their genius in what has been denominated 
" the noble art of poesy." 

While industriously fulfilling the duties of the 
parish and the study, the thoughts of this country 
clergyman stretched themselves into the regions 
beyond, where there is no open vision, and where 
many people perish for lack of knowledge. Deeply 
affected with the wretched condition of the Eastern 
nations, he drew up an important missionary scheme, 
and offered his personal service to initiate and estab- 
lish it. He proposed to " make a particular inquiry 
into the state of Christianity in all our factories and 
settlements, from Saint Helena to the further East- 
ern countries." Where he could not personally visit 
the settlements, he would fix a correspondence "from 
Surat, it being a mart of so many nations." He 
would make it his "faithful endeavor to revive the 
spirit of Christianity among them, by spreading good 
books, bringing them to catechising, or any other 
means, as God should enable him." 

He would then open up a correspondence with 
Abyssinian Churches, or " even try to pierce into 
that country himself," and "inquire into the state 
of the poor Christians of Saint Thomas, and settle a 
correspondence between them and the Church of 
England." He thought it probable that he might 
"light on some opportunity" to convey books to the 
Romanists, " translated into the language of the 
countries where they are, and even as far as China, 
whereby the Jesuits' half-converts might be better 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 161 

instructed in the principles of our religion, or made 
more than almost Christians." As for the pure 
heathen, he proposed to "learn the Hindoostan lan- 
guage; and when he had got master of their notions 
and way of reasoning, endeavor to bring over some 
of their Brahmins and common people to the Chris- 
tian religion." 

He felt he was not sufficient for the least of these 
noble designs, "much less for all together. But as 
it would be worth dying for to make some progress 
in any of them," he would cheerfully surrender him- 
self for the exalted enterprise, looking for " the same 
assistance as to kind, though not to degree, which 
was granted of old to the first planters of the Gos- 
pel." "If," he says in conclusion, "one hundred 
pounds per annum might be allowed me — and forty I 
must pay my curate in my absence — either from the 
East India Company or otherwise, I should be ready 
to venture my life on this occasion, provided any way 
might be found to secure a subsistence for my fam- 
ily, in case of my decease in those countries." 

He was not permitted to carry out this great proj- 
ect. But surely the Lord said unto him, as he said 
unto David of old time : " Whereas it was in thine 
heart to build an house unto my name, thou didst 
well that it was in thine heart. Nevertheless, thou 
shalt not build the house; but thy son, that shall 
come forth out of thy loins, he shall build the house 
unto my name." Within a century after this elab- 
orate scheme had been pondered by the humble 
14 



162 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

rector, a company of noble men, the spiritual chil- 
dren of this good man's own son, landed on those far- 
off shores to " learn the Hindoostan language," and 
"preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches 
of Christ." In those very lands to which his own 
thoughts So eagerly turned in vain, a goodly band of 
missionaries, bearing his own name as their denom- 
inational badge, are striving to accomplish the work 
which it was in his heart to do. Their labors are not 
in vain. They have mastered the Hindoo "notions 
and way of reasoning," and "brought over some of 
their Brahmins and common people to the Chris- 
tian religion." 

The personal character of this eminent clergyman 
of Epworth would well repay, did our limits allow, a 
critical and extended examination. He has been too 
commonly regarded as harsh and unfeeling ; imperi- 
ous in his household; ruling his wife with sternness 
and his family with unmitigated rigor; careless of 
his children in their early years, leaving their entire 
education to their mother ; and largely inattentive to 
the temporal wellbeing of those dependent upon 
him. This probably arises from a superficial ac- 
quaintance with the facts of his history. The notion 
possibly finds some defense in a few strong expres- 
sions in the letters of some of his sprightly daugh- 
ters, who, like many other young ladies, were occa- 
sionally impatient of control. It . may also derive 
further countenance from one or two anecdotes, cir- 
culated with great industry, and remembered only 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 163 

for their extravagance or oddity. A careful study 
of all the available sources of information will prove, 
that the popular estimate of his character does Sam- 
uel Wesley a serious injustice. And we hope that 
the narrative of his life and labors contained in these 
pages will lead to a more righteous decision. The 
anecdotes so often quoted against him, we believe, 
are either destitute of foundation, or enormously 
exaggerated to his disparagement. Loved by his wife 
and revered by his children, his somewhat strict do- 
mestic rule must have been tempered with manifesta- 
tions of the best affections of a fatherly nature. His 
lively disposition, sparkling wit, and wise sayings 
were the delight of his domestic circle. There was 
a sharpness of temper not always under control, and 
a slight dash of eccentricity which a stranger might 
wrongly interpret; but we can not indorse the state- 
ment of the American historian of Methodism, that 
" the energy of his character and the tenacity of his 
opinions were, doubtless, faulty virtues. They led 
him into not a few unnecessary sufferings, and bor- 
dered sometimes on insanity." Were we disposed to 
be critical, we might ask this writer what he means 
by "faulty virtues." Are they not something very 
nearly allied to vices? And why should "energy of 
character," which we have been accustomed to regard 
as a precious gift of God, be classed among these 
"faulty virtues?" And why should a firm holding 
of opinions, confessedly not heretical or sinful, formed 
on what appears to the man himself, after the most 



164 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

careful study, good and sufficient evidence, be placed 
in the same category? 

We are not disposed to hold up this good man as a 
paragon of perfection, free from all blemish. He had 
his faults and failings ; but we see no reason to ques- 
tion the following comprehensive and candid judg- 
ment of Doctor Clarke, who had deeply studied his 
character : " He was earnest, conscientious, and inde- 
fatigable in his search after truth. He thought 
deeply on every subject which was either to form 
an article of his creed, or a principle for his conduct. 
And having formed these, he boldly maintained them, 
conscious of his own integrity, and zealous of what 
he conceived to be the orthodox faith. His or- 
thodoxy was pure and solid; his religious conduct 
strictly correct in all respects ; his piety toward God 
ardent; his loyalty to his king unsullied; and his 
love to his fellow-creatures strong and unconfined. 
Though of High-Church principles and High-Church* 
politics, he could separate the man from the opinions 
which he held and the party he had espoused; and 
when he found him in distress, knew him only as a 
friend and brother." 

In addition to orthodox opinions and upright con- 
duct, there was in Wesley of Epworth a vigorous 
spiritual life. There is no record of any distinct 
conversion, of his passing through that great change 
which the Bible represents as our being washed, and 

* This term must not be interpreted as identifying Samuel Wesley 
in doctrinal sentiments with our modern Puseyites. 



THE RECTOR IN HIS PARISH. 165 

sanctified, and justified "in the name of the Lord 
Jesus and by the Spirit of our God." Yet, the son 
of parents who did their best in the days of his child- 
hood to " teach him the good and the right way," he 
" feared the Lord from his youth." It is possible 
that for many years he was, according to John Wes- 
ley's well-known distinction, a " servant," rather than 
a " son," of God ; serving the Lord from a strong 
conviction of duty, more than from a principle of 
divine, filial love. His state was probably very much 
like that of his sons at Oxford, before they experi- 
enced what is properly regarded as their conversion. 
But as life advanced, his views of conscious pardon 
and the renewing of the Holy Ghost became clear 
and strong. Either suddenly or by slow degrees, 
almost imperceptible perhaps to himself, he was made 
the happy possessor of these inestimable blessings. 
He knew God as a pardoning God, and felt the great 
transformation which made him " a new creature in 
Christ Jesus." We can not trace the light from its 
earliest dawn, through all its advancing brightness; 
but we are anxious to fix attention upon its grand 
culmination in his peaceful and blessed departure, 
recorded in a subsequent chapter. The clearness of 
his setting sun flings a cheerful light upon all the 
path which he traversed in gaining such an illustrious 
close. 



166 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 



The great part of family care and government consists in the right 
education of children. — Baxter. 



It is generally known that Providence blessed Mrs. 
Wesley and her husband with what the rector him- 
self calls " a numerous offspring, eighteen or nine- 
teen children." The scattered allusions in various 
family letters and other documents leave no doubt as 
to the lower number, and the higher, in all proba- 
bility, is correct. One was born in London, six at 
South Ormsby, and the rest at Epworth. Every one 
of them found an entrance into life within the limits 
of twenty-one years. 

It is difficult to ascertain how many of this large 
number were living at one time. Only seven daugh- 
ters and three sons grew up to maturity. But John 
Wesley speaks with profound admiration of the se- 
renity with which his mother wrote letters, attended 
4 to business, and held conversations while surrounded 
by thirteen children. More than ten, therefore, 
must have survived the period. of infancy, though the 
nine departed ones evidently died young. The first 
breach in the domestic circle — an event never to be 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 167 

forgotten wherever it occurs — was made in the Spring 
of 1693, when Susanna, the second child and first 
daughter, only two years old, was summoned away. 
The following year the grave again closed ; this time 
over the twin brothers, Annesley and Jedediah, chil- 
dren of a few weeks. Then at intervals, probably 
too short to allow the wounded heart to heal, others 
fell by the hand of the destroyer, till the trial culmi- 
nated in the loss of an infant accidentally suffocated 
by the nurse. These repeated bereavements were 
borne with becoming resignation to the Divine will; 
but they, nevertheless, deeply wrung the mother's 
heart. One sentence, penned many years after they 
had taken place, discloses the feeling with which she 
remembered her losses : "I have buried many ! but 
here I must pause !" Poor sorrowing mother, weep- 
ing over the graves of thy early dead, 

" Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
And render him with patience what he lent: 
This if thou do, he will an offspring give, 
That till the world's last end shall make thy name to live !"* 

Mrs. Wesley's care for those who died in child- 
hood was soon over; but the ten survivors claimed 
her untiring attention and industry for many years. 
Her marvelous ability and success in their education 
and training have won for her a proud, if not preemi- 
nent, position among the many illustrious mothers 
of the wise and good. On all hands, her sons and 



168 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

daughters are acknowledged to form one of the most 
remarkable family groups in the history of English 
households; and their eminence is largely attributed 
to their early domestic training. It therefore becomes 
a deeply-interesting inquiry, What were the means 
by which their various powers were so admirably 
developed, and their character so well and firmly 
built up? The present chapter aims to give some 
reply to this question. It must not be regarded as 
a defense of every part of Mrs. Wesley's plans, 
nor as a statement of the writer's own views on the 
important subject to which it relates. It is to be 
taken simply as an exposition of the principles and 
plans adopted by the mother of the Wesleys in the 
management and education of the Epworth family. 

Using the word education in its widest sense, it is 
obvious that the bodily appetites and wants of the 
child first demand the parent's careful attention. If 
these be not properly regulated and met, seeds of 
sickness are sown during the period which should be 
devoted to the cultivation of health. "If the shaft 
of the column is to be firm, and the sculptured capital 
to point to the skies, the base resting on the earth 
must not be neglected." Mrs. Wesley was so well 
persuaded of this important truth, that no sooner 
were her children born into the world than their 
infant life was regulated by method. Even their 
sleep was meted out in strict accordance with rule. 
The appointed time for their slumbers — three hours 
in the morning and three in the afternoon — was 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 169 

gradually shortened till they required none at all 
during the day-time. Punctual to the moment were 
they laid in the cradle, awake if possible, and rocked 
to sleep. The gentle motion was continued till the 
allotted time had transpired, and then, asleep or 
awake, they were taken up. This method secured 
their daily rest, and regulated the time of its dura- 
tion. The common apology for the peevishness of a 
child as the evening approaches was never heard in 
the Wesley family. At seven o'clock, immediately 
after supper, they were all prepared for bed, and at 
eight they were left in their several rooms awake.; 
" for there was no such thing allowed in the house 
as sitting by a child till it went to sleep." 

They were also placed under the same rigid regu- 
lations concerning food. As soon " as they were 
grown pretty strong " they were confined to three 
meals a day. Eating between the appointed hours 
was never allowed, " except in case of sickness, 
which seldom happened." If a child entered the 
kitchen and obtained food from the servants while 
they were at meals, " the child was certainly beat, 
and the servants severely reprimanded." At break- 
fast they always had "spoon meat," and sometimes 
the same at supper, as soon as family prayers were 
over. At these meals they were never allowed to 
" eat of more than one thing, and of that sparingly 
enough." Dinner was a more ample repast. " Their 
little table and chairs," says Mrs. Wesley, " were set 

by ours, where they could be overlooked." They 
15 



170 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

were allowed to eat and drink — "small beer" — as 
much as they desired. Asking aloud for any thing 
they wished was strictly forbidden. They whispered 
their wants to the servant who attended them, and 
she conveyed the request to their mother. "As 
soon as they could handle a knife and fork" they 
were promoted to a seat at the regular family table. 
In all cases it was an imperative law that they should 
eat and drink what was set before them. To this 
they became so accustomed that, whenever they were 
ill, there was no difficulty in making them take the 
most unpleasant medicine, because "they dare not 
refuse it." 

But children will give expression to their emotions; 
and it is as natural for them to cry as to laugh. The 
merry ring of their voices in a good peal of laughter 
is always a welcome sound; and we never heard of 
any rules for its suppression or control, unless it 
were unseasonable. The opposite expression, when 
constantly indulged in on the occurrence of some 
trifling disappointment, is universally regarded as 
"odious." But Mrs. Wesley seems to have regu- 
lated the crying of her children with as much ease 
and success as either their sleep or their food. We 
have often heard her censured for "not allowing a 
child to cry after it was a year old." The censure, 
however, becomes pointless when it is known that 
she had no such regulation in force. Her rule was, 
that when a child reached the first anniversary of its 
natal day it should be "taught to fear the rod, and 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 171 

to cry softly" Yet even this has been objected to 
by some over-gentle parents as calculated to break 
a child's spirit, and overshadow what ought to be 
its most gleeful hours with a perpetual gloom. But 
these sad consequences never followed in the Wesley 
family. Every one of the children who grew up had 
spirit enough; yet "not one of them, was heard to 
cry aloud after it was a year old." They thus 
escaped much correction which they might other- 
wise have received; and "that most odious noise," 
the crying of children, was never heard in the house. 
Opinions will continue to differ as to the universal 
applicability of the principle upon which this rule is 
founded. John Wesley thinks it may be enforced 
by " any woman of sense," with " such patience and 
resolution as only the grace of God can give." It 
may safely be left an open question. But if, like 
Mrs. Wesley, a mother can gain this difficult point, 
"no crying children will ever drown her singing of 
psalms, or put her devotion out of tune." 

It is generally admitted that one of the most diffi- 
cult problems of education is to form a child to 
obedience without impairing his freedom; to restrain 
him alike from the extreme of obstinacy on the one 
hand and too great pliancy on the other. It may 
probably be accepted as a general maxim, that the will 
determines the amount of individual power ; and when 
it is brought under proper control, obedience to the 
rightly-constituted authority becomes the law of our 
being. Hence Mrs. Wesley attached great import- 



172 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

ance to the early subjugation and right government 
of the will. "In order to form the minds of chil- 
dren," she writes, "the first thing to be done is to 
conquer their will, and bring them to an obedient 
temper. To inform the understanding is a work of 
time, and must with children proceed by slow degrees 
as they are able to bear it; but the subjecting the 
will is a thing which must be done at once, and the 
sooner the better. ... I insist upon conquering 
the will of children betimes, because this is the only 
strong and rational foundation of a religious educa- 
tion, without which both precept and example will 
be ineffectual. But when this is thoroughly done, 
then a child is capable of being governed by the 
reason and piety of its parents till its own under- 
standing comes to maturity, and the principles of 
religion have taken root in the mind. I can not yet 
dismiss this subject. As self-will is the root of all 
sin and misery, so whatever cherishes this in children 
insures their after- wretchedness and irreligion ; what- 
ever checks and mortifies it promotes their future 
happiness and piety. This is still more evident if we 
further consider that religion is nothing else than the / 
doing the will of God and not our own — that the 
one grand impediment to our temporal and eternal 
happiness being this self-will, no indulgence of it 
can be trivial, no denial unprofitable. Heaven or 
hell depends on this alone; -so that the parent who 
studies to subdue it in his child works together with 
God in the renewing and saving a soul. The parent 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 173 

who indulges it does the devil's work, makes religion 
impracticable, salvation unattainable, and does all 
that in him lies to damn his child, soul and body, 
forever." 

This thorough mastery of the will at the outset 
was Mrs. Wesley's first important step toward the 
government of her children. Still, the good old 
proverb remains true, " He that spareth his rod 
spoileth his son; but he that loveth him chasteneth 
him betimes." However painful and diflicult the 
duty, the chastisement of children is sometimes re- 
quired, even in the best regulated families. "By 
neglecting timely correction," says Mrs. Wesley, 
"children will contract a stubborness and obstinacy 
which are hardly ever after conquered, and never 
without using such severity as would be as painful 
to me as to the child. In the esteem of the world 
they pass for kind and indulgent, whom I call cruel, 
parents who permit their children to get habits which 
they know must be afterward broken. Nay, some 
-'are so stupidly fond as in sport to teach their chil- 
dren to do things which, in a while after, they have 
severely beaten them for doing. Whenever a child 
is corrected it must be conquered, and this will be 
no hard matter to do if it be not grown headstrong 
by too much indulgence." 

Observing that " cowardice and fear of punishment 
often lead children into lying," till they become so 
accustomed to it that it settles into a confirmed 
habit, she enacted that " whoever was charged with 



174 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

a fault, of which they were guilty, if they would in- 
genuously confess it and promise to amend, should 
not be beaten." The will being thoroughly subdued, 
childish follies and inadvertences were passed by, or 
mildly reproved; but no willful transgression, how- 
ever trivial, was ever forgiven without chastisement, 
less or more, as the nature and circumstances of the 
offense required. No sinful action, as falsehood, pil- 
fering, playing at church or on the Lord's day, diso- 
bedience, or quarreling, was allowed to go unpunished. 
Every signal act of obedience, especially if it crossed 
the child's own inclinations, was always commended, 
and frequently rewarded according to its merits. 
None of the children were ever reprimanded or 
beaten twice for the same fault; and "if they 
amended," they were never upbraided with it after- 
ward. And, finally, if any of them "performed an 
act of obedience, Qr did any thing with an intention 
to please, though the performance was not well, yet 
the obedience and intention were kindly accepted, 
and the child with sweetness directed how to do bet- 
ter for the future." 

Based on these important principles, Mrs. Wesley's 
rule over her children became one of absolute author- 
ity, blended with the strongest maternal love. She 
moved among them, not as a mere school-mistress, 
punctilious only about the observance of routine and 
rule; but as a mother, allowed of God to be put in 
trust for their education, and yearning for the wel- 
fare of their souls. Duty was never made hateful 



\. 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 175 

by being assigned as a punishment. All her com- 
mands were pleasant as " apples of gold in baskets 
of silver." Her rebukes were always well-timed; 
proportioned as nearly as possible to the offense; 
never administered in anger, but as the remon- 
strances of a tender mother. Instead of governing 
by fear and ruling with a rod of iron, she strove to 
make obedience only another name for love. The 
mother who steadily governs on these principles will 
seldom have to enforce obedience to her commands. 
She will find herself in the possession of a love out 
of which all obedience grows, and which gains its 
richest reward in the sunshine of her own approving 
smile. The parental reign is not to be one of terror 
and stern authority, but of love. The rod may be 
employed, but in reason and moderation, and never 
from momentary impulse and anger. Children are 
not to be provoked to wrath by harsh and unreason- 
able treatment. If they be uniformly confronted 
with parental power and menace, their spirit is bro- 
ken, and the most powerful motive to obedience — the 
desire to please — is completely taken away. 

The references to the recreations in which Mrs. 
Wesley's principles suffered her children to indulge, 
are exceedingly few. Her scrupulous care for the 
preservation of their health would probably induce 
her to discountenance all amusements of a sedentary 
character ; and her high Christian principles would 
restrain her from allowing games which she consid- 
ered in the least degree prejudicial to their moral or 



176 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

spiritual welfare. The little ones had their childish 
toys, concerning the proprietorship and barter of 
which the strictest rules were adopted and enforced ; , 
and those of riper years had their more vigorous 
amusements. The almost mechanical rigor which 
prevailed in the household method of government 
was relaxed at suitable intervals. The nursery^ the 
yard, and "the adjoining croft," occasionally became 
scenes of " high glee and frolic." But from the 
stern rule by which Mrs. Wesley regulated her own 
childish amusements — "never to spend more time in 
any matter of mere recreation in one day, than she 
spent in private religious duties" — we may fairly 
conclude that the period allotted for play was com- 
paratively short. 

It has been asserted that games of skill and of 
chance, such as John Wesley, afterward prohibited 
among the Methodist Community, formed part of the 
family pastimes at Epworth. The fact is undeniable 
that, even when the parsonage was ringing with the 
sound of Jeffery's unwelcome noises, some of the 
daughters amused themselves and endeavored to 
quiet their fears by a game at cards, and their mother 
joined in the frivolous play. As far as this ancient 
game can be brought within the range of an innocent 
domestic amusement, it would undoubtedly be so far 
controlled in the Epworth family. It was at that 
time very common in the most respectable and 
orderly households; and even John Wesley himself 
speaks of it with surprising leniency : " I could not 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 177 

do it with a clear conscience. But I am not obliged 
to pass any sentence on those that are otherwise 
minded. I leave them to their own Master. To him 
they stand or fall." Regarding card-playing as 
fraught with a multitude of dangers, especially to 
the youthful mind, we deeply regret to find it among 
the occasional pastimes of this godly and well-regu- 
lated household. 

As to Mrs. Wesley's general sentiments on the 
subject of recreations, the following passages ought 
to be considered in this connection : " Your argu- 
ments against horse-races do certainly conclude 
against masquerades, balls, plays, operas, and all 
such light and vain diversions, which, whether the 
gay people of the world will own it or no, do strongly 
confirm the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and 
the pride of life; all which we must renounce, or 
renounce our God and hope of eternal salvation. I 
will not say it is impossible for a person to have any 
sense of religion who frequents these vile assemblies ; 
but I never, throughout the course of my long life, 
knew as much as one serious Christian that did; nor 
can I see how a lover of God can have any relish for 
such vain amusement." Again she writes: "I take 
Kempis to have been an honest weak man, who had 
more zeal than knowledge, by his condemning all 
mirth or pleasure as sinful or useless, in opposition 
to so many direct and plain texts of Scripture. 
Would you judge of the lawfulness or unlawful- 
ness of pleasure — of the innocence or malignity of 



178 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

actions ? Take this rule : Whatever weakens your 
reason impairs the tenderness of your conscience, 
obscures your sense of God, or takes off the relish 
of spiritual things ; in short, whatever increases the 
strength and authority of your body over your mind, 
that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be 
in itself." With such admirable general principles 
to guide her conduct, Mrs. Wesley would not allow 
games of chance to form any important part of the 
recreations permitted to her children. 

The communication of intellectual instruction must 
necessarily enter largely into every system of educa- 
tion. And here again there are several remarkable 
and interesting peculiarities in Mrs. Wesley's plans. 
She never attempted to teach her children even the 
letters of the alphabet, till they had completed 
their fifth year. But no sooner was the appointed 
birthday with its simple festivities fairly over, than 
learning began in earnest. The day before the new 
pupil took his formal place in the school-room, " the 
house was set in order, every one's work appointed, 
and a charge given that no one should come into the 
room from nine till twelve, or from two till five." 
The allotted task of those six hours was for the new 
scholar to acquire a perfect mastery of the alphabet; 
and in every case, save two, the evening of the day 
saw Mrs. Wesley's children in full possession of the 
elements of all future learning. 

The next step was quite contrary to modern ideas 
about the graduated system. Instead of going over 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 179 

a page of uninteresting and unmeaning syllables, 
which communicate no thoughts to the mind, the 
pupil was taken at once to the sublime announce- 
ment: "In the beginning God created the heaven 
and the earth." This he was taught to spell, syl- 
lable by syllable, and word by word; "then to read 
it over and over, till he could read it off-hand with- 
out hesitation." He then proceeded with the next 
verse in the chapter in the same way; and was never 
allowed to leave off till perfect in the appointed 
lesson. In these initiatory stages there was the most 
resolute perseverance till the child gained a thor- 
ough mastery of his task. "I wonder at your 
patience," said her husband on one occasion ; " you 
V have told that child twenty times that same thing." 
"Had I satisfied myself by mentioning the matter 
only nineteen times," replied Mrs. Wesley, "I should 
have lost all my labor. You see it was the twentieth 
time that crowned the whole." Under such teaching, 
all preliminary difficulties vanished away in a few 
days, and reading became easy, instructive, and 
pleasant. 

In some of these details Mrs. Wesley was prob- 
ably influenced by a singular fact in connection with 
her eldest child. His hearing was acute and perfect; 
his intellect apparently keen and active; but there 
was no power of speech. He never uttered an intel- 
ligible word till he was nearly five years old; and 
his parents began to fear that he was hopelessly 
dumb. Having been missed longer than usual on 



180 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

one occasion, his mother sought him in different 
parts of the house, but without success. Becoming 
alarmed, she called him loudly by name, and, to her 
joyful surprise, he answered from under a table, in 
a clear, distinct voice: " Here I am, mother!" Sud- 
denly, and without any assignable reason or effort, 
he had gained the use of speech. This early infirm- 
ity in the case of her first-born prevented Mrs. 
Wesley beginning to teach him, had she been so 
disposed, before he was five years old. He learned 
with great rapidity, " and had such a prodigious 
memory," writes his mother, "that I can not remem- 
ber to have told him the same word twice. What 
was yet stranger, any word he had learned in his 
lesson he knew wherever he saw it, either in his 
Bible or any other book; by which means he learned 
very soon to read an English author well." This 
was her first attempt at teaching; and its great and 
cheering success probably fixed her future plans of 
action, from which she never deviated, except in the 
case of her youngest child. With her she was per- 
suaded to commence teaching before the five years 
had expired, "and she was more years learning than 
any of the rest had been months." 

The school always opened and closed with singing 
a solemn psalm, and was a scene of perfect order, 
nothing being permitted to interrupt the regular 
course of study. "If visitors, business, or accident 
be allowed to interfere with reading, working, or 
singing psalms at the appointed times, you will find 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 181 

such impediments multiplied upon you, till at last all 
order and devotion will be lost."* Every thing 
moved according to rule. "Every one was kept 
close to their business for the six hours." There 
was no loud talking or playing. "Rising out of 
their places, or going out of the room, was not per- 
mitted unless for good cause; and running into the 
yard, garden, or street, without leave, was always 
esteemed a capital offense." With such teaching 
and discipline, no wonder that the progress of the 
learners was uniformly rapid and satisfactory. "And 
it is almost incredible," adds Mrs. Wesley, " what a 
child may be taught in a quarter of a year, by a 
vigorous application, if it have but a tolerable ca- 
pacity and good health." Every one of her children, 
Kezzy alone excepted, " could read better in that 
time than the most of women can do so as long as 
they live." If, therefore, it be open to doubt whether 
there be any definite rule for the time of commenc- 
ing, or the best mode of communicating intellectual 
instruction in all cases, there can be no question 
that Mrs. Wesley's system, as carried out in her 
own family, was amply justified by its satisfactory 
results. 

Education, however, has to do with social relations, 
as well as intellectual culture. The human being can 
not be isolated. " Of all the multitudinous objects 
the earth contains, his fellow-men are to him the 
most important. So completely are their interests 

* Original Papers. 



182 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

bound up with his, that his social welfare and theirs 
are one. The justice, veracity, and compassion which 
they owe to him, is the standard of his duties toward 
them. Whatsoever he would that they should do to 
him, he is to do also to them."* The children of 
to-day can not live forever in the domestic inclosure. 
They must go forth and face the world, where they 
will find correlative claims and duties. Hence an- 
other most important part of education is to fit them 
for their social positions in life. 

This also was embraced within the range of home- 
education in the Epworth rectory. The children were 
taught to observe the greatest propriety toward every , 
one in the house. They were not suffered to ask, 
even the lowest servant, for any thing without saying, 
"Pray, give me such a thing;" and the servant was 
reprimanded if she allowed them to omit this cus- 
tomary form of request. Rudeness to a domestic 
was never passed over without punishment. The 
same propriety was observed toward each other. 
Though homely pseudonyms sparkle in the familiar 
family letters, the proper Christian names, always 
with the association of brother or sister, as the case 
might be, were alone allowed in the family. Prom- 
ises were to be strictly kept. A gift once bestowed, 
and the right thus relinquished by the owner, could 
not be returned on any pretense whatever. None 
was allowed to invade the property of another in 
the smallest matter, though it were only the value 

*"The Patriarchy." 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 183 

of a farthing or the worth of a pin. This rule 
Mrs. Wesley regarded as of vital importance. She 
thought that from the lack of its enforcement upon 
the minds of children by parents and governors much 
of the flagrant disregard of justice which we observe 
in the world undoubtedly flows. 

The Epworth family circle thus formed a miniature 
world, where the child's duty to his superiors, his 
equals, and those in a lower social condition than 
himself was learned and practiced. In this way the 
sons and daughters were fitted to enter upon the 
relations and duties of life, whenever they were re- 
quired to pass from under the parental roof. Their 
future conduct was in perfect harmony with the ad- 
mirable manner in which they had been brought up. 
Were the same pure principles observed in every 
family in the land, could all households be instructed 
and governed after the same fashion, society would 
no longer be so fearfully corrupted at the fountain- 
head. The young life issuing from the domestic 
hearth to meet the ever-existing demand would, as 
a whole, be vigorous and healthy in social virtues; 
and how much of the great mass of evil which now 
afflicts the community would then expire with the 
present generation ! 

But, suppose all this accomplished, is there noth- 
ing more in education than to develop the physical 
powers, store the intellect, and enforce the practice 
of all moral virtues? "To open the mind to human 
science, to awaken the pleasures of taste, and to 



184 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

decorate the external man with all the adornings of 
civil and refined life, might be sufficient to occupy 
the office of education were there no God, no Savior, 
and no future being. Were this life not a state of 
probation — had man no peace to make with his God, 
no law of his to obey, no pardon to solicit from his 
mercy — then this would be education. ' But most 
affectingly deficient will the knowledge of that youth 
be found, and negligent in the highest degree must 
they be considered who have charge of his early 
years, if his mind be left unoccupied by other sub- 
jects, and unfamiliar ized to higher considerations." * 
There is nothing deserving the name of education 
which is wholly apart from religion. Every child 
has a soul, which makes him consciously akin to the 
Unseen and the Eternal ; and this soul, fallen in 
Adam but redeemed in Christ, must be educated in 
the truth as it is in Jesus ; instructed in all that 
relates to its responsibility to God, and its necessary 
preparations for the life to come. 

These truths had a firm hold upon Mrs. Wesley's 
mind, and she resolutely set herself to meet the 
solemn responsibilities which they involved. Before 
her children could kneel or speak they were taught 
to ask a blessing upon their food by appropriate 
signs ; thus learning at the very beginning to recog- 
nize their dependence upon Him in whom "we live, 
and move, and have our being." They soon learned 
to be still and to behave devoutly during family 

* Richard Watson. 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 185 

worship. In short and simple prayers they were 
instructed, as soon as they could speak, to give utter- 
ance to those sentiments of devotion which slumbered 
in their breast, and which no other language could 
embody. The Lord's Prayer "they were made to 
say at rising and bed-time constantly; to which, as 
they grew bigger, were added a short prayer for 
their parents and some collects, a short catechism, 
and some portion of Scripture, as their memories 
could bear." As soon as they were capable they 
were taught to distinguish the Sabbath from every 
other day of the week, and to reverence the sanc- 
tuary by a constant attendance upon its services, 
and a quiet and devout behavior during public 
worship. 

As they increased in years and intelligence, Mrs. 
Wesley felt that their religious teaching made still 
greater demands upon her time and exertions. She 
was not willing that, while they advanced toward 
a perfect acquaintance with all other branches of 
learning, they should know nothing more than the 
elements of religious truth. "The main thing which 
is now to be done," she writes to one of her daugh- 
ters, "is to lay a good foundation, that you may act 
upon principles, and be always able to satisfy your- 
self, and give a reason to others of the faith that is 
in you. For any one who makes a profession of 
religion only because it is the custom of the country 
in which they live, or because their parents do so, or 

their worldly interest is thereby secured or advanced, 
16 



186 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

will never be able to stand in the day of tempta- 
tion, nor shall they ever enter into the kingdom of 
heaven." Her own early mental conflicts had forced 
her to search to their very foundations the principal 
doctrines of Divine revelation. She could not rest 
till she was able to give a reason for her belief in 
the truths she received. Convinced that, as far as 
possible, she ought to place her children in the same 
position, she set herself to the important work of 
giving them a thorough theological training. 

Instead of taking some manual of doctrine ready 
to her hand, she resolved to prepare one for herself. 
That which properly forms the first part of it is an 
important treatise on natural theology, written at the 
beginning of 1712 — a similar one having perished in 
the destruction of the parsonage. The argument for 
the Divine existence — arising from the creation of 
matter, the arrangement of the world, the stability 
of the order of nature, and the constitution of the 
human being — is elaborated with great minuteness 
and skill; and the theories of the eternity of matter, 
chance, and a "fortuitous concourse of atoms" are 
rebutted by good and sufficient reasons. The abso- 
lute perfection of the Divine nature and attributes 
is illustrated with much beauty of expression and 
demonstrated by appropriate arguments. The docu- 
ment closes with discussions on the origin of evil; 
the fact of the fall; the province of reason in mat- 
ters of religion ; the moral virtues ; the necessity of 
Divine revelation"; natural religion; and the theory 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 187 

of innate ideas. This important production of her 
pen once mastered, the youthful mind would find 
itself in possession of the main arguments in the 
entire controversy relating to Christian theism. 

This well-meant and well-executed task, however, 
as Mrs. Wesley clearly understood, was only intro- 
ducing her children into the porch of the great tem- 
ple of truth. There, indeed, they might stand in awe 
of Him whose eternal power and Godhead may be 
understood by the things that are made. But they 
could learn nothing of his abounding mercy in the 
redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ. 
She resolved, therefore, to conduct them into the 
temple itself, and lead them directly to the propiti- 
atory, where, beneath the wings of adoring cherubim 
and the clear shining from the heavenly shekinah, 
they might learn the doctrines of redemption and 
salvation. Taking as her text-book that ancient form 
of sound words, the Apostles' Creed, she prepared a 
comprehensive exposition of the leading truths of the 
Gospel. The introduction embraces observations on 
the defectiveness of the light of nature ; the evil of 
sin ; the necessity of an atonement ; the value of the 
Scriptures ; the creation and fall of angels ; the for- 
mation of man, probably to fill up the place of the 
angels who sinned; the probation, temptation, and 
fall of the first human pair, and its effects upon their 
posterity ; the provision of redemption ; and the na- 
ture of faith in Christ. The articles of the Creed 
are then expounded in regular order ; and many of 



188 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

them are illustrated with much beauty and force. 
On one or two important topics connected with ex- 
perimental religion the teaching is defective ; and 
there are opinions on other points which do not al- 
ways commend themselves to our judgment. But, 
as a whole, it is a good and Scriptural exposition of 
the principal truths of religion. The child who care- 
fully digested its instructions would have a far more 
minute and comprehensive acquaintance with the doc- 
trines of the Gospel, than thousands of well-educated 
people who profess and call themselves Christians. 

But religion is not a matter of mere creeds, how- 
ever orthodox ; or of beliefs, however intelligent and 
correct. It is a thing of practice, and has to do 
with the right government of the life. It is a walk- 
ing before God in the observance of all holy duties 
toward him, and toward our fellow-men. This view 
entered largely into all Mrs. Wesley's ideas of per- 
sonal religion ; and hence she was not likely to leave 
her children without some definite teaching concern- 
ing the practice of the life. At the close of her 
work on the Creed, she says to her daughter, "I 
shall only add a few words to prepare your mind for 
the second part of my discourse — Obedience to the 
laws of God — which I shall quickly send you." The 
document to which this reference is made was soon 
afterward completed. Regarding the moral law as 
a permanent and universal enactment, as well as the 
Divine rule of life, Mrs. Wesley prepared a beautiful 
and searching exposition of the Ten Commandments. 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 189 

Their meaning is set forth with much clearness ; and 
their observance, as the standard of morals and the 
sovereign rule of conduct, is pressed upon the con- 
science with great tenderness and power. 

These three treatises, which do so much honor to 
Mrs. Wesley's extensive reading, comprehensive ac- 
quaintance with the entire circle of religious truths, 
and ready expression of her thoughts, formed the 
theological manual for her children. They were first 
written for some of the elder ones who had, for a 
time at least, passed from under her immediate care 
and instruction. But she soon adopted t'hem as text- 
books in her regular system of teaching. "It is 
necessary to observe some method," she writes, 
"in instructing and writing for your children. Go 
through your brief exposition of the Creed and the 
Ten Commandments, which are a summary of the 
moral law ; then your brief exposition of the princi- 
ples of revealed religion ; then the being and perfec- 
tions of God."* With such able and systematic 
theological teaching, the children of the Ep worth 
parsonage could not fail to be well brought up " in 
the nurture and admonition of the Lord." 

There is, however, something more in religion than 
a correct knowledge of Christian doctrine and duty. 
The heart must be brought to the penitent reception 
of the blessings which those doctrines set forth, that 
we may have grace to discharge the duties which the 
law of God commands. Mrs. Wesley did not sup- 

* Original Papers. 



190 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

pose that she had filled up the measure of religious 
instruction, when she had expounded the truths and 
duties of Christianity. She knew that if the Gospel 
was to become the power of God unto the salvation 
of her children, she must press the reception of its 
blessings upon their heart and conscience. For this 
purpose she arranged a special private conference 
with each child, once in every week. " I take such 
a proportion of time," she writes, " as I can best 
spare every night to discourse with each child by 
itself, on something that relates to its principal con- 
cerns. On Monday, I talk with Molly ; on Tuesday, 
with Hetty ; Wednesday, with Nancy ; Thursday, 
with Jacky ; Friday, with Patty ; Saturday, with 
Charles ; and with Emilia and Sukey together, on 
Sunday." These private conferences disclosed to 
the mother the real thoughts and feelings of her 
children in reference to personal religion. They en- 
abled her to meet any real doubts ; to dispel many 
difficulties by which the mind was perplexed ; and to 
lead the child more thoroughly into the good and 
the right way. They exerted a most salutary influ- 
ence, and were gratefully remembered by her chil- 
dren. Nearly twenty years after her son John 
passed from under her immediate care he wrote : 
" In many things you have interceded for me and 
/ prevailed. Who knows but in this too " — a complete 
renunciation of the world — "you may be successful? 
If you can spare me only that little part of Thurs- 
day evening, which you formerly bestowed upon me 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 191 

in another manner, I doubt not it would be as useful 
now for correcting my heart as it was then for form- 
ing my judgment." 

There was also one more important and salutary 
arrangement adopted by Mrs. Wesley for promoting 
the religious welfare of her children. When, after 
the sad dispersion occasioned by the calamitous fire, 
the family assembled in the new rectory, she ordered 
a general retirement as soon as the school duties 
for the day were closed. The eldest child took the 
youngest that could speak, and the second the next, 
and so with the rest, till they passed, two and two, 
into private rooms, where they read a chapter in the 
New Testament and the Psalms for the evening of 
the day. In the morning they were also directed to 
read a chapter in the Old Testament and the Psalms 
for the forenoon. They then "went to their private 
prayers before they got their breakfast or came into 
the family." This remarkable practice, whatever 
visitors they might have, was uninterruptedly ob- 
served for nearly thirty years. Who can estimate 
the influence for good which it exerted over the 
entire household? 

These were the plans adopted by the mother of 
the Wesleys in the education and training of her 
children while they were under the parental roof. 
But when they left home she never ceased to follow 
them with her prayers and godly instructions. Her 
letters are such as probably no other mother ever 
wrote to her children. The ability with which she 



192 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

lays open the temptations which would inevitably 
assail them, the lucid expositions of religious doc- 
trine and practice, and the yearning tenderness of 
her appeals to the heart, excite the highest admira- 
tion, and stir the deepest emotions of the soul. One 
or two passages from letters to her eldest son must 
suffice as a sample: "I am concerned for you, who 
were, even before your birth, dedicated to the service 
of the sanctuary, that you may be an ornament of 
that Church of which you are a member, and be in- 
strumental, if God shall spare your life, in bringing 
many souls to heaven. Take heed, therefore, in the 
first place, of your own soul, lest you yourself should 
be a castaway. ... I hope that you retain the 
impressions of your education, nor have forgot that 
the vows of God are upon you. You know that the 
first fruits are Heaven's by an unalienable right; 
and that as your parents devoted you to the service 
of the altar, so you yourself made it your choice 
when your father was offered another way of life for 
you. But have you duly considered what such a 
choice and such a dedication imports ? Consider well 
what separation from the world, what purity, what 
devotion, what exemplary virtue are required in those 
who are to guide others to glory ! I say exemplary r , 
for low, common degrees of piety are not sufficient 
for those of the sacred function. You must not 
think to live like the rest of the world. Your light 
must so shine before men that they may see your 
good works, and thereby be led to glorify your 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 193 

Father which is in heaven. For my part I can not 
see with what face clergymen can reprove sinners, 
or exhort men to lead a good life, when they them- 
selves indulge their own corrupt inclinations, and by 
their practice contradict their doctrine. If the holy 
Jesus be indeed their master, and they are really his 
embassadors, surely it becomes them to live like his 
disciples; and if they do not, what a sad account 
must they give of their stewardship ! . . . I exhort 
you, as I am your faithful friend, and I command 
you, as I am your parent, to use your utmost dili- 
gence to make your calling and election sure; to be 
faithful to your God; and after I have said that 
I need not bid you be industrious in your calling. 
. . . I have a great and just desire that all your 
sisters and your brothers should be saved as well as 
you ; but I must own I think my concern for you is 
much the greatest. What! you, my son — you who 
was once the son of my extremest sorrow in your 
birth and in your infancy, who is now the son of 
my tenderest love; my friend, in whom is my inex- 
pressible delight, my future hopes of happiness in 
this world; for whom I weep and pray in my retire- 
ments from the world, when no mortal knows the 
agonies of my soul upon your account, no eye sees 
my tears, which are only beheld by that Father of 
spirits of whom I so importunately beg grace for 
you, that I hope I may at iast be heard — is it pos- 
sible that you should be damned? 0, that it were 

impossible! Indeed, I think I could almost wish 
17 



194 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

myself accursed, so I were sure of your salvation. 
But still I hope, still I would fain persuade myself 
that a child for whom so many prayers have been 
offered to Heaven will not at last miscarry. To the 
protection of the ever-blessed God I commit you, 
humbly beseeching him to conduct you by his grace 
to his eternal glory." 

These passages disclose the true parental yearning 
for the salvation of children — the real travailing in 
birth again till Christ be formed in them. Had they 
been written to a wild, dissipated youth, piercing the 
soul of his parents with many sorrows, and wasting 
his substance in riotous living, who would not have 
commended their earnestness? But why all this 
solicitude about an amiable, moral, industrious, and 
intelligent boy, who gave her not a moment's con- 
cern, except about his conversion to God? Ah! she 
well knew that in comparison with heart-felt, personal 
religion all other things are as the small dust of the 
balance; and she bent her best endeavors to the 
great work of bringing the soul of her child to the 
knowledge of the truth. Were this example followed 
by all godly parents, the conversion of children would 
not be so long delayed. Years of terrible anxiety 
would be averted, and religious households, like that 
at Epworth, would be multiplied a thousand-fold. 

The foregoing narrative of Mrs. Wesley's educa- 
tional plans suggests some of the main principles 
upon which she acted in the discharge of this im- 
portant duty. First of all she began early. She 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 195 

delayed the commencement of their literary education 
till her children were five years old; but from their 
birth they were made to feel the power of her training 
hand, and before they could utter a word they were 
made to understand that there was a Supreme Being 
to whom their gratitude and homage must be rever- 
ently rendered. " Some parents," says Christopher 
Anderson, "talk of beginning the education of their 
children. The moment they were* capable of forming 
an idea their education was already begun — the edu- 
cation of circumstances — insensible education, which, 
like insensible perspiration, is of more constant and 
powerful effect, and of far more consequence to the 
habit than that which is direct and apparent. This 
education goes on at every instant of time; it goes 
on like time itself; you can neither stop it nor turn 
its course. . . . Here, then, is one school from 
which there are no truants, and in which there are 
no holidays." Childhood is the most impressible 
period of life. Every object soon becomes a book; 
every place a school-house ; and every event plows/^ 
in some winged seeds which will be bearing their 
appropriate fruit for thousands of ages yet to come. 
The young plant is bent with a gentle hand, and the 
characters graven in the tender bark grow deeper 
and larger with the advancing tree. Parents, in their 
religious teaching especially, should seize upon these 
golden hours of prime, so hopeful and important. 
If they wait for intellectual development, and delay 
to cast the good seed of the kingdom into the virgin 



196 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

soil, the enemy will sow his tares and preoccupy the 
ground. 

Another manifest principle observed by Mrs. Wes- 
ley in the education and training of her family, was 
that of thorough impartiality. There was no pet 
lamb in her deeply -interesting flock ; no Joseph 
among her children, to be decked out in a coat of 
many colors to the envy of his less-loved brethren. 
It was supposed by* some of her sisters that Martha 
was a greater favorite with Mrs. Wesley than the rest 
of her children ; and Charles expressed his " wonder 
that so wise a woman as his mother could give way 
to such a partiality, or did not better conceal it." 
This, however, was an evident mistake. Many years 
afterward, when the saying of her brother was men- 
tioned to Martha, she replied, "What my sisters call 
partiality was what they might all have enjoyed if 
they had wished it ; which was permission to sit in 
my mother's chamber when disengaged, to listen to 
her conversation with others, and to hear her remarks 
on things and books out of school-hours." There is 
certainly no evidence of partiality here. All her 
children stood before her on a common level, with 
equal claims, and all were treated in the same way. 
There was no such evil habit in the parsonage as 
that which prevailed in the ancient patriarchal tent : 
" Isaac loved Esau, but Kebekah loved Jacob." The 
principles of equity combine with the dictates of na- 
ture to forbid an unequal distribution of parental 
favors and affections. It may not be always easy to 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 197 

suppress the feeling of preference; but parents must 
studiously avoid giving any expression of it, either 
by word or deed. Favoritism kindles the flames of 
jealousy and resentment, and renders the heart, 
which should be the seat of every gentle and holy 
emotion, the habitation of anger, malice, and re- 
venge. 

The education in the Epworth parsonage was pre- 
eminently home-education. God had blessed Mrs. 
Wesley with signal ability for teaching; and the pe- 
cuniary circumstances of the family compelled her to 
undertake the literary instruction of her children. 
But had it even been otherwise, she would have felt 
that their souls were committed to her special charge, 
and that the solemn responsibilities could not be 
transferred to another. This conviction led her to 
give herself to this one work as the supreme duty 
of her life; and by its successful performance she 
served her own generation — and even all the future 
generations of the world — far more effectually than 
if she had left the care of her children to others, 
and consecrated her remarkable abilities to the most 
untiring activity in some department of service in 
connection with the Church. He who made the par- 
ents the instruments of the child's existence, has 
placed in their hands the key to the recesses of its 
heart. Education in the various branches of secular 
learning may be delegated to the governess, or the 
public teacher ; but on no account, without a grave 
dereliction of duty and violation of the most solemn 



198 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

responsibilities, can parents altogether transfer to a 
stranger the task of religious instruction. 

Mrs. Wesley found her work sufficiently arduous 
and trying ; but she encouraged herself with thoughts 
of the future. " Though the education of so many 
children must create abundance of trouble, and will 
perpetually keep the mind employed as well as the 
body, yet consider 't is no small honor to be intrusted 
with the care of so many souls. And if that trust 
be but managed with prudence and integrity, the 
harvest will abundantly recompense the toil of the 
seed-time ; and it will be certainly no little accession 
to the future glory to stand forth at the last day and 
say, ' Lord, here are the children which thou hast 
given me, of whom I have lost none by my ill exam- 
ple, nor by neglecting to instill into their minds, in 
their early years, the principles of thy true religion 
and virtue !' "* 

Thus far attention has been entirely directed to 
Mrs. Wesley's own efforts in the education of her 
children. Most previous writers have claimed for 
her the exclusive honor of all the instruction given 
in the parsonage, and represented her husband as 
taking no part whatever in this important duty. 
There is no evidence, however, that he was so indif- 
ferent to his children's welfare as this representation 
implies. Would he who took the poor boy White- 
lamb into his study and prepared him, both in gen- 
eral and classical knowledge, for the University, put 

* Original Papers. 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 199 

forth no personal effort in the education of his own 
children? Two or three of the daughters evidently 
possessed some classical learning, and the sons had 
undoubtedly obtained the elements of Latin and 
Greek before they went to Westminster and the 
Charterhouse. Who, then, instructed them in these 
ancient tongues ? Mrs. Wesley, as we have already 
seen, was unacquainted with these branches of learn- 
ing. There was no governess for the daughters, or 
tutor for the sons, except in the case of Samuel for 
a short time. To whom, then, could they be in- 
debted for their classical knowledge but their father? 
Mrs. Wesley had the . care of the school, and the 
greater part of the instruction, especially in the 
earlier stages, was communicated by her, assisted by 
her elder daughters as they grew up. But the study, 
as well as the school-room, was a place where many 
a lesson was given, and the classical learning, at 
least, was entirely under the rector's charge. 

His concern for the religious instruction and spirit- 
ual welfare of his children was only second to that 
of Mrs. Wesley herself. His long and elaborate let- 
ters of advice, encouragement, and warning display 
the genuine yearning of a father's heart. " Now, 
my boy," he writes to Samuel, " it is likely begins 
that conflict whereof I have so often warned you, and 
which will find you warm work for some years to 
come. Now vice or virtue; God or Satan; heaven 
or hell! which will you choose? What if you should 
fall on your knees this moment, or as soon as you 



200 THE MOTHEK OF THE WESLEYS. 

can retire, and choose the better part? If you have 
begun to do amiss, resolve to do better. Give up 
yourself solemnly to God and to his service. Im- 
plore the mercy and gracious aid of your Redeemer, 
and the blessed assistance, perhaps the return, of the 
Holy Comforter. You will not be cast off. You will 
not want strength from above, which will be infinitely 
beyond your own, or even the power of the enemy. 
The holy angels are spectators; they will rejoice at 
your conquest. Do you not remember the fight with 
Orexis and her sisters in Bentivoglio and Urania?* 
Why should you not make your parents' hearts re- 
joice ? You know how tenderly they are concerned 
for you, and how fain they would see you virtuous 
and happy; one of which you can not be without 
the other. In short, use the means which God has 
appointed, and he will never forsake you." 

As his children grew up around him, the good man 
rejoiced in their superior education, their stern prin- 
ciples, and consistent conduct. His own humorous 
defense, in reply to his brother's accusations, is too 
characteristic to be omitted. "If God has blessed 
him with a numerous offspring, he has no reason to 
be ashamed of them, nor they of him, unless perhaps 
one of them ; and if he had but that single one, it 
might have proved no honor or support to his name 
and family. Neither does his conscience accuse him 
that he has made no provision, for those of his own 
house ; which general accusation includes them all. 

*A religious romance, by Nathaniel Ingelo, 1660, 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 201 

But has he none — nay, not above one, two, or 
three — to whom he has, and some of them at very 
considerable expense, given the best education which 
England could afford, by God's blessing on which 
they live honorably and comfortably in the world? 
Some of whom have already been of considerable help 
to the others, as well as to himself; and he has no 
reason to doubt the same of the rest, as soon as 
God shall enable them to do it; and there are many 
gentlemen's families in England who, by the same 
method, provide for their younger children. And he 
hardly thinks that there are many of greater estates 
but would be glad to change the best of theirs, or 
even all their stock, for the worst of his. Neither is 
he ashamed of claiming some merit in his having 
been so happy in breeding them up in his own prin- 
ciples and practices ; not only the priests of his 
family, but all the rest, to a steady opposition and 
confederacy against all such as are avowed and de- 
clared enemies to God and his clergy, and who deny 
or disbelieve any articles of natural or revealed 
religion; as w T ell as to such as are open or secret 
friends to the Great Rebellion ; or to any such prin- 
ciples as do but squint toward the same practices; so 
that he hopes they are all stanch High-Church, and 
for inviolable passive obedience; from which, if any 
of them should be so wicked as to degenerate, he 
can't tell whether he could prevail with himself to 
give them his blessing; though, at the same time, he 
almost equally abhors all servile submission to the 



202 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

greatest and most overgrown tool of state, whose 
avowed design it is to aggrandize his prince at the 
expense of the liberties and properties of his free- 
born subjects." 

The reader's attention can not fail to be arrested 
by a very significant sentence at the commencement 
of this quotation. When the rector boasts that he 
has no reason to be ashamed of any of his children, 
he adds: "Unless perhaps one of them; and if he 
had but that single one, it might have proved no 
honor or support to his name or family." And the 
following touching passage from Mrs. Wesley's pen 
seems to glance in the same direction : " 0, sir ! 0, 
brother ! happy, thrice happy, are you ; happy is 
my sister, that buried your children in infancy; 
secure from temptation; secure from guilt; secure 
from want, or shame, or loss of friends ! They are 
safe beyond the reach of pain or sense of misery. 
Being gone hence, nothing can touch them further. 
Believe me, sir, it is better to mourn ten children 
dead than one living; and I have buried many." It 
is in the power of our hand to lift the vail; but this 
allusion, which historic fidelity demanded, must suf- 
fice. The erring one was recovered, and the future 
career of Mrs. Wesley's children amply rewarded the 
pains bestowed upon their general and religious edu- 
cation. Some of the daughters, it is true, were most 
unhappily married. But the conduct they displayed 
under their wrongs and provocations proved them 
to be women of noble principle — true daughters of 



MODES OF EDUCATION. 203 

Susanna Wesley. The surrounding darkness of their 
circumstances only served to make the light of their 
character shine with increasing brightness. As, one 
by one, these many children reached the goal of life, 
their last hours testified that they had not neglected 
the grand purpose of their earthly existence — a prep- 
aration for the life to come. Their father, feeling 
that the promise was unto him, and to his children, 
was often heard to say : " God has shown me that I 
should have all my nineteen children about me in 
heaven. They will all be saved; for God has given 
them all to my prayers !" And, as far as we can 
judge, his hopes have been realized. In all human 
probability, the family of the Epworth parsonage are 
now collected in the many-mansioned house above. 

0, who can estimate the fullness of their joy! With 
a gladness intenser far than when he saw them res- 
cued from the burning parsonage, will the good rec- 
tor exclaim, " Let us give thanks to God ! He has 
given me all my children." The present life was to 
them a scene of temptation, of tremulous anxiety, 
and hard struggle ; but now all are rescued from 
every danger and snare — -their souls from death, 
their eyes from tears, their feet from falling. With 
what thankfulness do they " revert to the altar around 
which they knelt; to the abode where they were 
sheltered from the arrow of temptation and the pesti- 
lence of vice; to the prayer in which they joined; to 
the example by which they were incited ; to the love 
which sweetened and sanctified all ! Yet never were 



204 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

they so truly one as now — their sentiment so agreed, 
and their song so harmonious. Never were their 
feelings so true, and their concord so intimate. They 
are at home with the Lord. Every breach is re- 
paired; every broken tie is reunited. Christianity 
can achieve nothing more than this. It is according 
to its purest, kindest spirit. It notes habitations ; it 
saves by families, in its sacrificial Passover of mercy. 
It is moved by the spirit of Him who hateth putting 
away; who blessed each bond and followed each 
yearning of the heart; who himself mourned that 
death should reign ; who gave back from the grave 
an only brother to the sisters of Bethany, an only 
son to the widowed mother of Nain." Happy the 
families whose earthly life is cheered by the prospect 
of such a final and eternal reunion! 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 205 



vm. 

EMBARRASSMENTS. 

If you listen to David's harp you shall hear as many hearse-like 
airs as carols ; and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath labored more 
in describing the afflictions of Job than the felicities of Solomon. 
Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes, and adversity is 
not without comforts and hopes. — Bacon. 

Even in our own days the position of many clergy- 
men in the Church of England, and many ministers 
in other Churches, is nothing more than a position of 
respectable poverty. With incomes — we can not call 
them salaries — notoriously low, and a status in society 
which compels them to show outward respectability, 
and brings upon them pecuniary demands unknown to 
persons in private life, there is a perpetual struggle 
between keeping up appearances and providing for 
the usual domestic wants. But in the times of which 
we write the worldly circumstances of the inferior 
clergy were far worse than they are now. The living 
of South Ormsby, which when held by Samuel Wesley 
was worth fifty pounds per annum, now brings in 
more than five times that amount; and the rector- 
ship of Epworth, then of the nominal annual value 
of two hundred pounds, is now worth nine hundred 
and fifty-two. The Wesley family must, therefore, 



206 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

have felt all the evils incident to an expensive position 
combined with a scant and insufficient income. 

The full story of their thrift, sufferings, and mani- 
fold contrivances to make ends meet can never be 
told; but there are facts enough to show that they 
had far more than an ordinary share of the common 
struggles for life. When, in the Spring of 1701, 
Mrs. Wesley and her husband "clubbed and joined 
stocks to send for coals," all they could muster 
was six shillings. A quarter of a century later five 
pounds was all they had to " keep the family from 
May-day till after harvest." Thirteen years from 
the date of the disastrous fire the house was not 
half furnished, nor the family half clothed. No 
wonder that, when he paid his friendly visit in 1731, 
the rector's wealthy brother was " strangely scandal- 
ized at the poverty of the furniture, and much more 
so at the meanness of the children's habit." " Tell 
me, Mrs. Wesley," said the good Archbishop Sharp, 
" whether you ever really wanted bread." " My 
Lord," replied the noble woman, "I will freely own 
to your grace that, strictly speaking, I never did 
want bread; but, then, I had so much care to get it 
before it was eat, and to pay for it after, as has often 
made it very unpleasant to me; and I think to have 
bread on such terms is the next degree of wTetched- 
ness to having none at all." " You are certainly 
in the right," replied his lordship, and made her a 
handsome present, which she had "reason to believe 
afforded him comfortable reflections before his exit " 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 207 

This testimony of Mrs. Wesley is fully corrobo- 
rated by the letters of some of her children. When 
Emilia, the eldest daughter, approached womanhood, 
she realized the terrible fact that the family were in- 
volved in heavy pecuniary embarrassment. She tells 
us that her father's journeys to London to obtain 
money from his friends, or to attend u convocations 
of blessed, blessed memory," took him from home, 
more or less 5 for seven successive Winters. The 
family were " in intolerable want and affliction." 
Through one entire " dismal Winter " she had to 
take the sole management of the household. ' Her 
mother was sick, confined even to her room, and 
daily expected to die.- Her father was in constant 
danger of arrest and imprisonment for debt; and 
Emilia, had to provide for a large family with the 
smallest possible means. " Then," she adds — and 0, 
what an amount of grief is condensed into this one 
sentence! — "then I learned what it was to seek 
money for bread, seldom having any without such 
hardships in getting it, that much abated the pleasure 
of it." 

With these illustrations before his eye the reader 
will readily receive Mrs. Wesley's own statement, 
"It is certainly true that I have had a large expe- 
rience of what the world calls adverse fortune." 

The real cause of these painful circumstances, the 
heritage of Mrs. Wesley's entire married life, may 
easily be discovered. Her husband had no per- 
sonal property, and she received no goodly marriage 



208 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

portion. The greater part of her father's private 
resources was exhausted or lost before her marriage. 
In his will he speaks of his "earthly pittance," and 
says: "My just debts being paid, I give to each 
of my children one shilling, and all the rest to 
be divided between my son Benjamin, my daughter 
Judith, and my daughter Anne." Mrs. Wesley prob- 
ably received this magnificent fortune of one shilling ; 
but it is evident that she and her husband had no 
provision made for their temporal comfort at the 
time of their marriage. 

The income of the London curacy had to be sup- 
plemented by the vigorous but uncertain efforts of 
the pen. The tale of South Ormsby is best told in 
the rector's own words. " 'T will be no great won- 
der that when I had but fifty pounds per annum for 
six or seven years together; nothing to begin the 
world with ; one child at least per annum, and my 
wife sick for half that time, that I should run one 
hundred and fifty pounds behindhand; especially 
when about a hundred of it had been expended in 
goods, without doors and within." When he received 
the living of Epworth, it cost him fifty pounds for 
his journey to London, the affixing of the broad seal 
to his title, and removing his family. He had to 
borrow money for additional furniture, and for " set- 
ting up a little husbandry " when he took the tithes 
into his own hands. His barn fell, and cost him 
eighty pounds to rebuild it. His aged mother, who 
for many years during his earlier struggles was 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 209 

largely dependent upon him, must have gone to 
prison had he not assisted her with more than forty 
pounds. He also made her a yearly allowance of ten 
pounds. The two disastrous fires at the parsonage 
cost him five hundred pounds, at least, exclusive of 
replacing the furniture. His living had a nominal 
value of two hundred a year; but it never reached 
that sum ; and the taxes to " Saint John of Jerusa- 
lem " and other parties, amounted to thirty pounds. 
The parishioners took advantage of his "dislike to 
go to law," and robbed him of portions of those 
tithes and offerings on which his income so much de- 
pended. The authorities kindly "bestowed an ap- 
prentice " upon him, whom he supposed he must 
" teach to beat rime," whatever that particular phrase 
may mean. His family was large, and his medical 
expenses heavy. His old friends the Dissenters had 
influence enough to secure his removal from the chap- 
laincy of a regiment conferred upon him by the Duke 
of Marlborough. The living of Wroote, which he 
held for a short time in connection with Ep worth — 
and now worth four hundred a year with residence — 
hardly did more than pay the expenses of the addi- 
tional curate ; and he soon relinquished it in favor of 
Whitelamb, the husband of his daughter Mary. These 
notices are amply sufficient to account for the strait- 
ened financial circumstances which so long oppressed 
the Epworth family. 

The greatest carefulness was exercised, and the 

utmost efforts made to "provide things honest in the 
18 



210 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

sight of all men." For a considerable time, only one 
maid-servant was kept; and never more than two. 
The daughters were all educated at home and with- 
out the aid of a governess, except one or two who 
were educated by their uncle Matthew. As they 
grew up they had their regular departments of house- 
work, which they readily performed. The three sons, 
with the exception of Samuel for a short time, were 
all educated at home, till they were ready for the 
public schools, and were a considerable demand upon 
the father's resources for years while they were at 
school and college. No company was kept ; and the 
strictest economy was practiced in food and raiment. 
The only extravagant tendencies we discover in the 
rector are a moderate love of his pipe, and rather an 
"immoderate fondness for snuff;" for the latter of 
which very questionable habit he received a smart 
poetical castigation from his eldest son. These lux- 
uries might, and ought to have been dispensed with 
under the circumstances. But in all other respects, 
the minister of Epworth stands before us as a most 
temperate and frugal man. Replying to his brother's 
unkind letter, " he challenges an instance to be given 
of any extravagance, in any single branch of his ex- 
penses, through the whole course of his life, either in 
dress, diet, horses, recreation, or diversion, either in 
himself or family. . . . He can struggle with the 
world, but not with Providence; nor can he resist 
sickness, fires, and inundations." 

The true secret of these embarrassments was stated 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 211 

by Lord Oxford, in 1730, when he requested Dean 
Swift to subscribe for the rector's work on the Book 
of Job : " The person concerned is a worthy, honest 
man ; and by this work of his, he is in hopes to get 
free of a load of debt which has hung upon him some 
years. This debt of his is not owing to any folly or 
extravagance of his, but to the calamity of his house 
having been twice burnt, which he was obliged to re- 
build ; and having but small preferment in the Church, 
and a large family of children, he has not been able 
to extricate himself out of the difficulties these acci- 
dents have brought upon him. Three sons he has 
bred up well at Westminster,* and they are excellent 
scholars. The eldest has been one of the ushers in 
Westminster school since the year 1714. He is a 
man in years, yet hearty and able to study many 
hours in a day. This, in short, is the case of an hon- 
est, poor, worthy clergyman, and I hope you will take 
him under your protection." 

But did not Mrs. Wesley's husband largely aug- 
ment these pecuniary embarrassments by his own im- 
prudence and " sorry management ?" Did he not 
spend much money in publishing books and attending 
convocations, which he ought to have husbanded for 
the use and comfort of his family? These questions 
are generally answered greatly to the good man's 
disparagement. But if they be fairly examined, some 
of the charges will fall to the ground, and the sever- 
ity of the rest will probably be mitigated. 

* This is aa error. John was educated at the Charterhouse. 



212 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

When he was presented to Epworth, the living was 
let for a hundred and sixty pounds a year. Think- 
ing he could make it more productive, he took the 
management of it into his own hands. For this he 
had neither the proper qualifications nor the requisite 
capital. "He is not fit for worldly business," wrote 
his brother Annesley, who had employed him in one 
or two matters during his own absence in India. 
" This I likewise assent to," replies Mrs. Wesley, 
" and must own I was mistaken when I did think 
him fit for it. My own experience hath since con- 
vinced me that he is one of those who, our Savior 
saith, 'are not so wise in their generation as the 
children of this world.' " His long-established habits, 
and the ardent love of more congenial pursuits, dis- 
qualified him for the careful and energetic manage- 
ment of glebe and cattle ; and the borrowed money 
necessary to set him up in this little husbandry, 
brought upon him an annual expenditure for interest 
which his income could not well bear. By this at- 
tempt to better his fortune he probably lost many 
pounds a year. The step was both unwise and un- 
profitable. 

During his Lincolnshire incumbencies he was three 
times elected a member of convocation. This re- 
quired him to spend a considerable time in London 
at his own expense. He sets down the cost of the 
three journeys at a hundred and fifty pounds. He 
could probably have declined the appointment; and 
censures have been rather liberally awarded him for 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 213 

incurring such heavy expenditure when his present 
liabilities were so great. But may not something be 
said in mitigation of these censures? He was an 
able, prominent, and active clergyman, taking a deep 
interest in every thing connected with his Church. 
He earnestly advocated carrying out to the full the 
usages and discipline of the Establishment; and em- 
braced every opportunity to shoAV his sincere and 
strong love for ecclesiastical observance and order. 
His brother clergymen of the diocese selected him as 
their fit representative in the deliberations of the 
most august and important assembly of his own 
Church. How difficult for a man of his disposition 
and habits to decline an appointment so congenial to 
his own feelings, and probably, after all, not very 
easy to refuse! Were our censure to fall any where, 
it would be upon the system which required a poor 
parish priest to pay his own expenses while attending 
to the business of a public appointment, rather than 
upon the man who made heavy personal sacrifices to 
discharge what he believed to be an important duty 
to his Church at the request of his brethren. 

As to the money spent in publishing books, we 
believe it was the only profitable investment the Ep- 
worth rector ever made. During his London curacy 
he doubled his income by the efforts of his pen; and 
these vigorous literary exertions continued to his last 
hours. When bending beneath the infirmities of 
seventy years, he still bravely toiled to " mend in 
some sort his fortune," and make a little provision 



214 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

for his family. His right hand stricken with paraly- 
sis, and compelled to drop the pen, he says : " I have 
already lost one hand in the service; yet I thank 
God, non deficit altera** and I begin to put it to 
school this day to learn to write, in order to help its 
lame brother." His larger works, published mainly 
by subscription, were important sources of income. 
Let all be taken into account, and his noble boast 
is amply justified: "No man has worked truer for 
bread than I have done ; and few have lived harder, 
or their families either. I am grown weary of vindi- 
cating myself; not, I thank God, that my spirits 
sink, or that I have not right on my side ; but be- 
cause I have almost a whole world against me ; and 
therefore shall, in the main, leave my cause to the 
righteous Judge." 

But were there not large subscriptions made at 
different periods to rescue him from financial pres- 
sure? Good Archbishop Sharp and others did render 
him considerable help in the time of need; and his 
letters in acknowledgment of their kindly liberality 
disclose to us one of the most grateful hearts God 
ever made. "When I received your grace's first 
letter, I thanked God upon my knees for it; and 
have done the same, I believe, twenty times since, as 
often as I have read it; and more than once for the 
other, which I received yesterday." Again : "I am 
pretty confident your grace neither reflects on nor 
imagines how much you have done for me, nor what 

* The other does not fail me. 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 215 

sums I have received by your lordship's bounty and 
favor, without which I had been ere this moldy in 
a jail, and sunk a thousand fathoms below nothing." 
After giving a list of various sums — amounting to 
a hundred and eighty-four pounds, in which Queen 
Anne is represented by forty-three pounds — received 
through the Archbishop at different times, he adds : 
"A frightful sum if one saw it all together. But it 
is beyond thanks, and I must never expect to perform 
that as I ought till another world; where, if I get 
first into the harbor, I hope none shall go before me 
in welcoming your lordship into everlasting habita- 
tions; where you will be no more tried with my 
follies, nor concerned with my misfortunes. How- 
ever, I may pray for your grace while I have breath, 
and that for something nobler than this world can 
give. It is for the increase of God's favor, of the 
light of his countenance, and of the foretastes of 
those joys, the firm belief whereof can only support 
us in this weary wilderness." 

The entire of these contributions from all sources 
did not amount, we believe, to more than the cost of 
rebuilding the parsonage, leaving all the other losses 
to fall upon a man with a large family and a fright- 
fully low income. We are no advocate for con- 
tracting debts; but when a man, with an income 
which, with the utmost economy, hardly meets his 
daily necessities, has his house burned down, and is 
compelled to rebuild it, what can he do but borrow 
money on the best security he has, and struggle to 



216 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

repay it? This Wesley of Ep worth did. None of 
his debts were repudiated, and none were forgiven. 
"With his noble wife's thrift in the house, and his 
own persevering toil in the study, all were honestly 
and honorably paid. The struggle was long and 
painful; but when, at the close of forty -five years' 
married life, the rector died, his liabilities were little 
more than a hundred pounds; and the furniture in 
the house and the stock on the glebe were nearly, 
if not quite, sufficient to meet the demand. 

With these explanations before us we leave others 
to censure good Samuel Wesley's "imprudence and 
sorry management." Convinced that, without at- 
tempting to vindicate him in all things, we have 
represented his true circumstances in relation to 
these painful pecuniary matters, "our sympathies 
gather around the busy bee whose active industry 
and zeal could not shield his hive from spoliation 
and misfortune, while many a cotemporary drone 
surfeited in abundance, and wore out a useless life 
in luxury, self-indulgence, and criminal ease." 

Mrs. Wesley's deportment under these manifold 
and long-continued trials was every thing that could 
be required of a wife and a Christian. What can 
exceed the beautiful spirit indicated in the following 
passage from one of her meditations? "Our blessed 
Lord reproves Martha's care because it cumbered 
and perplexed her mind. She erred, not in caring 
for a decent reception for her Savior, but in being 
too anxious and solicitous about it, insomuch that 



EMBARRASSMENTS, 217 

she was not at liberty to attend on his instructions 
as her sister did. It requires great freedom of mind 
to follow and attend on Jesus with a pure heart, 
ever prepared and disposed to observe his example 
and obey his precepts. To manage the common 
affairs of life so as not to misemploy or neglect 
the improvement of our talents, to be industrious 
without covetousness, diligent without anxiety, to be 
as exact in each punctilio of action as if success 
depended upon it, and yet so resigned as to leave 
all events to God, still attributing the praise of every 
good work to him — in a word, to be accurate in the 
common offices of life, yet at the same time to use 
the world as though we used it not — requires a 
consummate prudence, great purity, great separation 
from the world, much liberty, and a firm and stead- 
fast faith in Christ." In the darkest hour of their 
fortunes her husband exclaims, "All this, thank God, 
does not in the least sink my wife's spirits." She 
"bears it with that courage which becomes her, and 
which I expected from her." 

Sometimes, however, the pressure seemed almost 
too heavy for her, and she writes : " I have enough 
to turn a stronger head than mine; and were it 
not that God supports me, and by his omnipotent 
goodness often totally suspends all sense of worldly 
things, I could not sustain the weight many days — 
perhaps hours. But even in this low ebb of fortune 
I am not without some kind interval." Then the 

momentary gloom passes away and beautiful sentences 
19 



218 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

drop from her pen: "Upon the best observation I 
could ever make I am induced to believe that it is 
much easier to be contented without riches than with 
them. It is so natural for a rich man to make his 
gold his god — for whatever a person loves most that 
thing, be it what it will, he will certainly make his 
god — it is so difficult not to trust in it, not to depend 
on it for support and happiness, that I do not know 
one rich man in the world with whom I would ex- 
change conditions." 

When disappointed of expected resources, and the 
balance is again on the wrong side, she writes: "I 
think myself highly obliged to adore and praise the 
unsearchable wisdom and boundless goodness of Al- 
mighty God for this dispensation of his providence 
toward me; for I clearly discern there is more of 
mercy in this disappointment of my hopes than there 
would have been in permitting me to enjoy all that 
I had desired, because it hath given me a sight and 
sense of some sins which I had not before. I would 
not have imagined I was in the least inclined to 
idolatry, and covetousness, and want of practical 
subjection to the will of God."* 

The dark cloud again gathers ; but she is prepared 
for its deepening gloom. " Now all things are suffi- 
ciently uneasy, and the incommodities of a little 
house and great family are great impediments, when 
the body is weak and the mind not strong. But all 
things must be endured with patience, seeing the end 

* Original Papers. 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 219 

of all trouble is at hand; for life wears apace, and 
in a few years — perhaps a few days — we shall pass 
into another state, very different from this, wherein 
we shall always enjoy that tranquillity which is in 
vain sought for in any temporal enjoyment. Nor 
shall we find sin or sorrow more. Courage, then ! 
Think on eternity I"* 

All this bespeaks a home needy, but not sordid; 
poverty-stricken, yet garnished by high principle and 
unflinching resolution; full of anxieties for temporal 
provision, yet free from the discontent that dishonors 
God. And from beneath these clouds, which unceas- 
ingly hovered over her, she calmly looked for the 
blessed eventime with its promised light. " Those 
dark and mysterious methods of Providence which 
here puzzle and confound the wisest heads to recon- 
cile them with his justice and goodness, shall be 
there unriddled in a moment ; and we shall clearly 
perceive that all the evils which befall good men in 
this life were the corrections of a merciful Father; 
that the furnace of affliction, which now seems so hot 
and terrible to nature, had nothing more than a lam- 
bent flame, which was not designed to consume us, 
but only to purge away our dross, to purify and pre- 
pare the mind for its abode among those blessed ones 
that passed through the same trials before us into 
the celestial paradise. And we shall forever adore 
and praise that infinite power and goodness which 
safely conducted the soul through the rough waves 

* Original Papers. 



220 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

of this tempestuous ocean, to the calm haven of peace 
and everlasting tranquillity. Nor shall we have the 
same sentiments there which we had here ; but shall 
clearly discern that our afflictions here were our 
choicest mercies. Our wills shall no longer be averse 
from God's ; but shall be forever lost in that of our 
blessed Creator's. No conflicts with unruly passions, 
no pain or misery shall ever find admittance into that 
heavenly kingdom. God shall wipe away all tears 
from our eyes ; and there shall be no more death, 
neither sorrow, nor crying; neither shall there be 
any more pain; for the former things are passed 
away. Then shall we hunger no more, neither shall 
we thirst any more; neither shall the sun light upon 
us, nor any heat; for the Lamb who is in the midst 
of the throne shall feed us, and shall lead us unto 
living fountains of water. Far be it from us to 
think that the grace of God can be purchased with 
any thing less precious than the blood of Jesus ; 
but if it could, who that has the lowest degree of 
faith would not part with all things in this world to 
obtain that love for our dear Redeemer which we so 
long for and sigh after ? Here we can not watch 
one hour with Jesus without weariness, failure of 
spirits, dejection of mind, worldly regards which damp 
our devotions and pollute the purity of our sacrifices. 
What Christian here does not often feel and bewail 
the weight of corrupt nature, the many infirmities 
which molest us in our way to glory? And how 
difficult is it to practice as we ought that great duty 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 221 

of self-denial; to take up our cross and follow the 
Captain of our salvation without ever repining or 
murmuring ! If shame or confusion could enter those 
blessed mansions, how would our souls be ashamed 
and confounded at the review of our imperfect serv- 
ices when we see them crowned with such an unpro- 
portionable reward ! How shall we blush to behold 
that exceeding and eternal weight of glory that is 
conferred upon us for that little, or rather nothing, 
which we have done or suffered for our Lord ! That 
God who gave us being, that preserved us, that fed 
and clothed us in our passage through the world; 
and, what is infinitely more, that gave his only Son 
to die for us, has, by his grace, purified and con- 
ducted us safe to his glory ! 0, blessed grace ! mys- 
terious love ! How shall we then adore and praise 
what we can not here apprehend aright ! How will 
love and joy work in the soul! But I can not ex- 
press it ; I can not conceive it !" 

"With these earnest longings for the coming redemp- 
tion from every affliction, Mrs. Wesley joyfully bore 
the inconveniences and sorrows of the present time, 
knowing in herself that she had in heaven a better 
and an enduring substance. And notwithstanding 
its many and heavy trials, we believe that the mar- 
ried life in the Ep worth parsonage was one of hearty 
affection and mutual helpfulness. Between persons 
of so much decision and firmness as Mrs. Wesley and 
her husband, no doubt differences of opinion and 
probably conflicts of temper occasionally arose. But 



222 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

they were neither many nor serious. There is, how- 
ever, a very current story about a singular and pro- 
tracted breach of their conjugal harmony which must 
not be passed over in silence. 

The anecdote, as given by John Wesley and Doc- 
tor Clarke, states that, the year before the death of 
William the Third, the rector observed that his wife 
did not respond to the prayer for the king, in their 
daily domestic worship. When he remonstrated with 
her, and required her reason for the omission, she 
justified herself by declaring that she did not be- 
lieve the Prince of Orange to be king. " Sukey," 
replied her husband, somewhat tartly, " if that be 
the case, you and I must part; for if we have two 
kings, we must have two beds ;" and declared he 
would not continue to live with her unless she re- 
nounced these objectionable opinions. He retired to 
his study immediately after this hasty speech, and 
remained alone for a considerable time. He then, 
without another word, mounted his horse and rode 
for London, where, being " convocation man " for 
the diocese of Lincoln, he resided a whole year 
without any communication with his family. When 
Anne came to the throne, about whose title to the 
kingdom there was no difference of opinion, he re- 
turned; and John Wesley was the first child born 
after the restoration of conjugal harmony. " This 
very singular incident," writes the American Meth- 
odist historian, " seems not to have been attended 
with any severe recrimination. It was as cool as it 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 223 

was determined and foolish. It was made a matter 
of conscience by both parties, and both were immov- 
ably but calmly resolute in all conscientious preju- 
dices. As an illustration of character it indicates 
worse for the good sense than the good heart of the 
rector. It would be incredible if related on less 
authority than that of John Wesley himself." 

The truth of this damaging anecdote has never 
been questioned; but Ave are satisfied that, even if it 
have any foundation in fact, it is grossly exaggerated 
in its details. Far be it from us to impeach the 
veracity of one so transparent and truthful as the 
founder of Methodism. But, as the circumstances 
were not within the range of his personal knowledge, 
he could only report to others what had first been 
reported to him. When even real incidents are trans- 
mitted from one generation to another in an oral 
manner, how soon does fiction become blended with 
fact! John Wesley heard the anecdote on what he 
considered reliable authority, and recorded it as it 
was told to him. But a careful examination of 
the various alleged circumstances will clearly prove 
that the fictitious element, to say the least, largely 
prevails. 

There undoubtedly was a strong difference of 
opinion between Mrs. Wesley and her husband on 
the abstract lawfulness of the Revolution of 1688. 
Writing in reference to the continental wars of 1709 
she says : " As for the security of our religion, I take 
that to be a still more unjustifiable pretense for war 



224 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

than the other" — namely, checking the power of 
France — "for, notwithstanding some men of a sin- 
gular complexion may persuade themselves, I am of 
opinion that, as our Savior's kingdom is not of this 
world, so it is never lawful to take up arms merely 
in defense of religion. It is like the presumption 
of Uzzah, who audaciously stretched out his hand to 
support the tottering ark, which brings to mind those 
verses of no ill poet: 

'In such a cause 'tis fatal to embark, 
Like the bold Jew that propped the falling ark; 
"With an unlicensed hand he durst approach, 
And though to save, yet it was death to touch.' 

And truly the success of our arms hitherto has no 
way justified our attempt; but though God has not 
much seemed to favor our enemies, yet neither has 
he altogether blessed our forces. But though there 
is often many reasons given for an action, yet there 
is commonly but one true reason that determines 
our practice; and that, in this case, I take to be 
the securing those that were the instruments of 
the revolution from the resentments of their angry 
master, and the preventing his return and settling 
the succession in an heir. Whether they did well 
in driving a prince from his hereditary throne I leave 
to their own consciences to determine; though I can 
not tell how to think that a king of England can 
ever be accountable to his subjects for any mal- 
administrations or abuse of power; but as he derives 
his power from God, so to him only he must answer 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 225 

for his, using it. But still I make a great difference 
between those who entered into a confederacy against 
their prince, and those who, knowing nothing of the 
contrivance, and so consequently not consenting to 
it, only submitted to the present Government — which 
seems to me to be the law of the English nation, 
and the duty of private Christians, and the case 
with the generality of this people. But whether the 
praying for a usurper, and vindicating his usurpations 
after he has the throne, be not participating his sins 
is easily determined."* 

With a political creed like this, admitting to its 
fullest extent and consequences "the right divine 
of kings," Mrs. Wesley could not regard William 
of Orange as the lawful sovereign of England. And 
from the same manuscript we learn another principle 
which she held most tenaciously, and which will 
throw some light upon the other important point in 
the incident now under discussion ; namely, a positive 
refusal to join in praying for a blessing on that which 
she did not recognize as strictly lawful. " Since I 
am not satisfied of the lawfulness of the war, I can 
not beg a blessing on our arms till I can have the 
opinion of one wiser and a more competent judge 
than myself in this point; namely, whether a private 
person that had no hand in the beginning of the 
war, but did always disapprove of it, may notwith- 
standing implore God's blessing on it, and pray for 
the good success of those arms which were taken up, 

* Original Papers. 



226 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

I think, unlawfully. In the mean time I think it my 
duty, since I can not join in public worship, to spend 
the time others take in that in humbling my soul 
before God for my own and the nation's sins, and in 
beseeching him to spare that guilty land wherein are 
many thousands that are, notwithstanding, compara- 
tively innocent, and not to slay the righteous with 
the wicked; but to put a stop to the effusion of 
Christian blood, and in his own good time to restore 
us to the blessing of public peace. Since, then, I 
do not absent myself from church out of any con- 
tempt for authority, or out of any vain presumption 
of my own goodness, as though I needed no solemn 
humiliation; and since I endeavor, according to my 
poor ability, to humble myself before God, and do 
earnestly desire that he may give this war such an 
issue as may most effectually conduce to his own 
glory, I hope it will not be charged upon me as a 
sin; but that it will please Almighty God, by some 
way or other, to satisfy my scruples, and to accept 
of my honest intentions, and to pardon my manifold 
infirmities."* 

If, then, according to this statement from her own 
pen, Mrs. Wesley refused to join in public worship 
on a national fast-day, because she did not believe 
in the lawfulness of the object for which prayer was 
to be made, we may readily believe that she would 
refuse to respond to the prayers for William III, 
when she did not recognize him as the lawful king 

* Original Papers. 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 227 

of England. But, while we admit all this, there are 
two or three facts which prove that several of the 
statements in the anecdote, as given by Wesley and 
Clarke, can not be sustained. William, Prince of 
Orange, died on the 8th of March, 1702, and the 
separation, which occurred the year before his demise, 
must have taken place some time in 1701. On the 
18th of May, in the latter year, the rector writes 
from Epworth, announcing to Archbishop Sharp the 
addition of two infants to his family. We may fairly 
presume, therefore, that the difference and desertion 
could not arise before July, 1701. If Mrs. Wesley 
did not hear any thing of him for a twelvemonth, 
her husband could not return earlier than the middle 
of the following year. In that case the statement 
that he came back on the accession of Queen Anne, 
in the previous March, must fall to the ground. 

The first fire at the parsonage occurred in July, 
1702. The rector was then at home, quietly pursu- 
ing his usual parochial duties. Writing to his friend 
the Archbishop, he gives a full account of this fiery 
trial, and describes a journey to London in search of 
pecuniary help among his friends. This journey, 
which in that day required a considerable time to 
accomplish, was completed by the beginning of July. 
He must, therefore, have been in Epworth early in 
1702. In the light of this fact, the statement that 
Mrs. Wesley " did not hear any thing of him for a 
twelvemonth" can not be true, because he was not 
absent from home half that time. 



228 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

And, finally, the difference of opinion is said to 
have been discovered by her husband observing that 
Mrs. Wesley did not say amen to the prayer for the 
king. But this prayer for His Majesty and the royal 
family was no new thing in the devotions of the Ep- 
worth parsonage. It had formed part of the regular 
domestic worship twice every day for eleven years 
before the death of William. Is it possible that Mrs. 
Wesley should have refused the usual response to 
this supplication and her husband never discover it 
till after the lapse of so long a period? The suppo- 
sition is utterly incredible. She was on friendly 
terms with Samuel Wesley when he wrote " several 
pieces, both in prose and verse," vindicating the valid 
sovereignty of William and Mary, and was probably 
his affianced bride at the very time. She must, there- 
fore, have been well acquainted with his views ; and 
as she was accustomed from childhood to express her 
own sentiments with great frankness, and act upon 
them with prompt decision, we can not believe that 
her husband remained ignorant of her real opinions 
on the subject in question for eleven years after their 
marriage. 

These considerations bring us to the conclusion 
that facts are against the literality of several leading 
circumstances in this oft-told tale; and when these 
are taken away, the residuum of truth, if indeed any 
remain, is exceedingly small. The difference of opin- 
ion is candidly admitted; and, for aught we know, 
altercations occasionally arose. But that " the con- 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 229 

tention was " ever " so sharp between them, that 
they departed asunder the one from the other " 
after the fashion described in the anecdote under 
discussion, we more than doubt. If a separation 
ever took place, which is by no means proved, and 
which in our opinion is exceedingly improbable, it 
was neither so aggravated nor protracted as is com- 
monly believed. 

Mrs. Wesley was a true-hearted and noble wife, 
loving her husband with an enlightened and strong 
affection, ever ready to stand by him and vindicate 
his consistency and honor. When unjust reflections 
were cast upon him because he had made no provi- 
sion for his family, she defended him with an energy 
and faithfulness which entitle her to the highest 
praise. " Old as I am," she writes, " since I have 
taken my husband ' for better, for worse,' I '11 take my 
residence with him. Where he lives, will I live ; and 
where he dies, will I die ; and there will I be buried. 
God do so unto me, and more also, if aught but death 
part him and me. Confinement is nothing to one 
that, by sickness, is compelled to spend great part 
of her time in a chamber. And I sometimes think 
that, if it were not on account of Mr. Wesley and 
the children, it would be perfectly indifferent to my 
soul whether she ascended to the Supreme Origin of 
being from a jail or a palace, for God is every- where : 

' Nor walls, nor locks, nor bars, nor deepest shade, 
Nor closest solitude excludes his presence ; 
And in what place soever he vouchsafes 
To manifest his presence, there is heaven.' 



230 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

And that man whose heart is penetrated with Divine 
love, and enjoys the manifestations of God's blissful 
presence, is happy, let his outward condition be what 
it will. He is rich as having nothing, yet possessing 
all things. This world, this present state of things, 
is but for a time. What is now future will be pres- 
ent, as what is already past once was. And then, as 
Pascal observes, a little earth thrown on our cold 
head will forever determine our hopes and our con- 
dition. Nor will it signify much who personated the 
prince or the beggar, since, with respect to the 
exterior, all must stand on the same level after 
death." 

These strong attachments were reciprocated by her 
husband. He speaks of her in tender and earnest 
words in letters to his sons. " Reverence and love 
her as much as you can," he writes to Samuel. 
"For, though I should be jealous of any other rival 
in your breast, yet I will not be of her. The more 
duty you pay her, and the more frequently and kindly 
you write to her, the more you will please your af- 
fectionate father." The following poetic picture of a 
good wife, in his Life of Christ, is an ideal descrip- 
tion of the blessed Yirgin; but there is reason to 
believe that the original from which it was drawn 
was near the rector's side, in the humble parsonage 
at South Ormsby : 

" She graced my humble roof, and blest my life, 
Blest me by a far greater name than wife j 
Yet still I bore an undisputed sway, 
Nor was 't her task, but pleasure to obey : 



EMBARRASSMENTS. 231 

Scarce thought, much less could act, what I denied ; 

In our low house there was no room for pride ; 

Nor need I e'er direct what still was right, 

Still studied my convenience and delight. 

Nor did I for her care ungrateful prove, 

But only used my power to show my love : 

Whate'er she asked I gave, without reproach or grudge, 

For still she reason asked — and I was judge : 

All my commands requests at her fair hands, 

And her requests to me were all commands : 

To others' thresholds rarely she 'd incline ; 

Her house her pleasure was, and she was mine ; 

Rarely abroad, or never, but with me, 

Or when by pity called, or charity." 



232 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 

The weary sun hath made a golden set. — Shakspeaee. 

The long course of married life in the Epworth 
parsonage, so eventful in domestic vicissitudes and 
so full of blessing to the world in all future time, 
was now hurrying to its close. The many children 
had been well educated; the sons were young men of 
extraordinary promise ; the daughters were sprightly 
and clever. All were serious, and some of them 
religious in an eminent degree. The heaviest debts 
were paid, and several of the family were provided 
for. " Thank God!" writes the rector, "I creep up 
hill more than I did formerly, being eased of the 
weight of four daughters out of seven, as I hope I 
shall be of the fifth in a little longer." Almost for 
the first time in financial matters 

" A bow was in the cloud of grief." 

The burden of embarrassment under which he had 
so long been bowed down was rapidly lightening, 
and the goodly land of rest seemed to lie full before 
his gaze. He saw it with his eyes, but was not 
allowed to go over and possess it. 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 233 

During the last decade of his life the old man's 
health, " with Time's injurious hand crushed and 
o'erworn," had been seriously failing. The grass- 
hopper became a burden, and the strong man began 
to totter. Memorable sentences, indicating that he 
at least was looking for the coming crisis, were ever 
and anon dropping from his ready pen. For the 
greater part of the last ten years he had been 
"closely employed in composing a large book,* 
whereby he hoped he might have done some benefit 
to the world, and in some measure amended his own 
fortunes. By sticking so close to this he had broken 
a pretty strong constitution, and fallen into the palsy 
and gout." " Time has shaken me by the hand, and 
death is but a little behind him. My eyes and my 
heart are now almost all I have left, and bless God 
for them !" " What will be my own fate before the 
Summer is over, God knows." 

The right hand was fast forgetting her cunning. 
The pen of the ready writer was, for the most 
part, committed to an amanuensis. The fertile brain 
which, in the days of its vigor, had sometimes 
"beaten rhyme" at the rate of two hundred coup- 
lets a day, had now to dictate its slow-coming 
thoughts to another. His whole appearance was so 
wasted and changed that his most familiar friends, 
who had not seen him for a time, would hardly 
recognize him. Sometimes he was quite confined to 
the house by pain and weakness, unable to "venture 

* Dissertationes in Librum Jobi. 
20 



23i THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

to church on a Sunday," and far "too weak to be at 
the visitation." 

While compassed about with these infirmities a 
new sorrow pierced his heart. His only grandson, 
whom he had fondly lioped to see serving God in 
the Gospel of his Son, was removed by death. He 
seems, from the following lines, to have felt the be- 
reavement most keenly: "Yes, this a thunderbolt 
indeed to your whole family, but especially to me, 
who now am not likely to see any of my name in 
the third generation, though Job did in the seventh, 
to stand before God. However, this is a new dem- 
onstration to me that there must be a hereafter; 
because, when the truest piety and filial duty have 
been showed, it has been followed by the loss of 
children, which therefore must be restored and met 
with again, as Job's first ten were, in another world. 
As I resolve from hence, as he directs, to stir up 
myself against the hypocrite, I trust I shall walk on 
my way and grow stronger and stronger, as well as 
that God will support you both under this heavy and 
unspeakable affliction. But when and how did he 
die, and where is his epitaph?" The rector's some- 
what novel argument for a future life may not carry 
much weight; but who can fail to appreciate the 
characteristic references to Job, and the manly ten- 
derness which the extract discloses? 

About the same time the venerable man met with 
an alarming accident, which jeoparded his life, and 
from the effects of which it is a wonder that he ever 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 235 

recovered. Riding with Mrs. Wesley, his daughter 
Matty, and the servant-maid, to look at a field which 
he rented at Low Melwood, the horses suddenly 
started into a gallop. The rector was thrown out 
of the wagon, and fell heavily on his head. Two 
neighbors, w x ho providentially met near the spot at 
the time, raised his head and held him backward, " by 
which means he began to respire." The "blackness 
in the face" indicated that he had "never drawn 
breath" from the moment of the fall till they lifted 
him up. He was so stunned by the blow that, when 
Mrs. Wesley came up and asked him how he was, 
he looked "prodigiously wild," denied all knowledge 
of the fall, and declared he was "as well as ever he 
was in his life." They bound up his head, "which 
was very much bruised, and helped him into the 
wagon again, and set him at the bottom of it." 
Mrs. Wesley supported his head between her hands, 
and the man led the horses softly home. After 
being bled he began to "feel pain in several parts, 
particularly in his side and shoulders." Further 
remedies were, applied and he rallied. On Whit- 
sunday, only a very few days after the accident, 
"he preached twice, and gave the sacrament, which 
was too much for him to do, but nobody could dis- 
suade him from it." The following day he was very 
ill, and slept for many hours. On Tuesday his old 
enemy, the gout, came; but with proper attention for 
two or three nights "it went off again. We thought 
at first," continues Mrs. Wesley, "the wagon had 



236 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

gone over him ; but it only went over his gown sleeve, 
and the nails took a little skin off his knuckles, but 
did him no further hurt." 

The shock to his constitution from this terrible 
fall was very severe, and the four remaining years 
of his life were full of feebleness. Yet, with the 
two terrible enemies of palsy and gout laying vigor- 
ous siege to his shaken frame, he was still cheerful 
in spirit, and even gay in his pleasantries. The 
dearest interests of his parishioners were as fully 
on his heart as ever. He moved among them from 
house to house, as he had done aforetime. There 
was the same kindly greeting and earnest endeavor 
to do them good. His pulpit, from which he had so 
long preached the Gospel to a stiff-necked and gain- 
saying people, still exerted its wonted influence over 
him. No weakness could induce him to forego the 
privilege of declaring to his flock the way of salva- 
tion. "Your father," writes his devoted wife, "is in 
a very bad state of health. He sleeps little, and 
eats less. He seems not to have any apprehension 
of his approaching exit; but I fear he has but a 
short time to live. It is with much pain and diffi- 
culty that he performs divine service on the Lord's 
day, which sometimes he is obliged to contract very 
much. Every body observes his decay but himself; 
and people really seem very much concerned for him 
and his family." 

These manifold weaknesses and sufferings were 
graciously sanctified to his spiritual good. By a 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 237 

marvelous process, in union with the true grace of 
God, they were working for him " a far more ex- 
ceeding and eternal weight of glory." They were 
not joyous, but grievous, yet afterward yielding the 
peaceable fruit of righteousness. Certain metals re- 
quire strong fires to fuse them down; and, by these 
somewhat protracted sorrows, a temper naturally 
harsh and irritable was chastened into patient and 
even joyful submission. Replying to a very re- 
proachful and unnecessarily severe letter of his 
brother Matthew, he describes the grateful change 
in his own humorous way : " I was a little surprised 
that he did not fall into flouncing and bouncing, as I 
have often seen him do on far less provocation ; which 
I ascribe to a fit of sickness which he hath lately 
had, and which I hope may have brought him to 
something of a better mind." 

This " fit of sickness," whatever the nature of 
the disease might be, was of great violence and du- 
ration. It " held him half a year," during* the 
greater part of which he was- attended by three 
physicians, and his life despaired of. It brought him 
to the verge of the grave, 

" And left the strong man, when it passed, 
Frail as the sear leaf in the blast." 

±'he chastening, however, was eminently sanctified to 
his spiritual good. The first time he again entered 
the pulpit, he made grateful acknowledgments of the 
Divine goodness. He preached an impressive ser- 



238 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

mon, with special reference to his recovery, on that 
most appropriate text, " Jesus findeth him in the 
temple, and said unto him, Behold, thou art made 
whole: sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto 
thee." Happy is the man who so endures the afflic- 
tions of this present mortal life, as to render them 
subservient to his spiritual interests and his everlast- 
ing welfare. 

Meditating upon the patience of Job, and working 
harder than his failing strength would warrant, in 
order to complete the dearest project of his heart, 
and satisfy the clamor of some of his subscribers, he 
was now compelled to ponder very seriously what 
ought to be done for the wellbeing of his parishioners 
and his own family, in the appointment of his suc- 
cessor. He was naturally anxious that one of his 
sons should obtain the living, and thus provide a 
home for his widow and unmarried daughters. The 
following passage from a letter to Samuel suggests 
the grounds of his desire : " The deplorable state in 
which I should leave your mother and the family, 
without an almost miraculous interposition of Provi- 
dence, which we are not to presume upon, when we 
neglect the means, if my offer should be rejected till 
it were too late. The loss of near forty years' — I 
hope honest — labor in this place, where I could ex- 
pect no other but that the field which I have been so 
long sowing with, I trust, good seed, and the vine- 
yard which I have planted with no ignoble vine, must 
be soon rooted up, and the fences of it broken down. 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 239 

For I think I know my successor, who, I am morally 
satisfied, would be no other than Mr. P., if your 
brothers both slight it ; and I shall have work enough, 
if my life should last so long, to accomplish it; and, 
behold, there seems to be a price now put into their 
hands, or, at least, some probability of it. If they 
go on to reject it, I hope I am clear before God and 
man, as to the whole affair." 

After all his earnest entreaty they did " go on to 
reject it;" and having done his best to insure the 
continuance of the same Gospel to his parishioners 
which he himself had so long preached, he felt that 
he must now leave every thing in the hands of Him 
who is "head over all things to his body, the 
Church." He writes, " I hinted at one thing which 
I mentioned in my letter to your brother, whereon I 
depend more than upon all my own simple reasoning ; 
and that is, earnest prayer to Him who smiles at the 
strongest resolutions of mortals, and can, in a mo- 
ment, change or demolish them ; who alone can bend 
the inflexible sinew, and order the irregular wills of 
us sinful men to his own glory, and to our happiness. 
And while the anchor holds, I despair of nothing, 
but firmly believe that he who is best will do what is 
best, whether we earnestly will it, or appear never 
so averse from it. And there I rest the w r hole mat- 
ter, and leave it with him to whom I have committed 
all my concerns, without exception and without re- 
serve, for soul and body, estate and family, time and 
eternity." 



240 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

The strong tabernacle, however, is not to be over- 
thrown with the suddenness of a whirlwind's rush. 
The cords thereof are gradually loosened during eight 
weary months, till, in the spring-time of 1735, the 
hour of dissolution, so momentous in its issues, draws 
near. On the twenty-fifth of March, we have the 
following passage in a manuscript letter of Charles 
to his brother Samuel : " This Spring we hoped to 
follow our inclinations to Tiverton, but are now loudly 
called another way. My father declines so fast, that 
before next year he will, in all probability, be at his 
journey's end; so that I must see him now, or never 
more with my bodily eyes. My mother seems more 
cast down at the apprehension of his death than I 
thought she could have been ; and, what is still worse, 
he seems so too. I wish I durst send him Hilarion's 
words of encouragement to his departing soul : ' Go 
forth, my soul; what art thou now afraid of? Thou 
hast served thy God these threescore and ten years, 
and dost thou tremble now to appear before him V 
Methinks that such a man as he should ' rejoice with 
joy unspeakable and full of glory,' while he enters 
his haven a ter such a succession of storms; or 
rather, to use M. de Renty's words, while his spirit 
is applied to that joy which a creature ought to have, 
to see itself upon the point of being reunited to its 
first principle and its last end.'*' 

Whatever the apprehensions referred to in this let- 
ter as clouding the rector's mind when he saw death 
approaching, it is certain that when the eventful mo- 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 241 

ment arrived, his lamp was trimmed, his light burn- 
ing, his loins girded, and he himself like unto them 
that wait for their Lord. Sons and daughters gather 
around his bed, and the dying man rejoices in the 
" clear sense of his acceptance with God." More 
than once he exclaims, " The inward witness, son ! 
the inward witness ; that is the proof, the strongest 
proof of Christianity !" As his afflictions abound, 
his consolations abound also by Christ Jesus. "Are 
you in much pain ?" asks his son John. " God does 
chasten me with pain," he answers aloud with a 
smile; "yea, all my bones with strong pain. But I 
thank him for all ! I bless him for all ! I love him 
for all !" " Are the consolations of God small with 
you ?" " No ! no ! no ! The weaker I am in body, 
the stronger and more sensible support I feel from 
God." All anxiety for the future welfare of those 
he so much loved vanishes away before his strong 
faith in God's providence and covenant. " Do not 
be concerned at my death. God will then begin to 
manifest himself to my family." Like Christian and 
Hopeful, the nearer he comes to the Celestial City, 
the brighter view he has of it. Heavenly prospects, 
in all their ravishing splendor, burst upon his soul, 
and he summons his children and attendants to ce- 
lestial discourse. "Now let me hear you talk of 
heaven. Think of heaven ; talk of heaven ! All the 
time is lost when we are not thinking of heaven. 
Nothing is too much to suffer for heaven." Like 

some ancient patriarch, the Divine afflatus seems 
21 



242 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

to visit him for a moment, and prophetic visions of 
that glorious revival, in which the mourning sons 
now bending over his pillow, are to be God's chosen 
instruments, cheer him with their glowing bright- 
ness. More than once he lays his hand upon the 
head of his youngest son, and utters the weighty 
words, " Be steady ! The Christian faith will surely 
revive in this kingdom. You shall see it, though I 
shall not." 

The mind now adverts to another death than his 
own; and he is anxious to commemorate the Lord's 
cross and passion once more. " There is but a step 
between me and death. To-morrow I would see you 
all with me round this table, that we may once more 
drink of the cup of blessing before I drink it new in 
the kingdom of God. With desire have I desired to 
eat this passover with you before I die." 

The morrow comes, but the sufferer is " so weak 
and full of pain that he receives the elements with 
much difficulty," often repeating, " Thou shakest me ! 
thou shakest me !" With the communicating act there 
is an apparent revival of physical strength. He is 
" full of faith and peace," and the family almost dare 
to hope for his recovery. The reviving is illusory as 
far as the outer man is concerned; but the sting 
of death is taken away, and all fear of eternity is 
banished forever. His latest human desires of finish- 
ing Job, paying his debts, and seeing his eldest son 
once more are cheerfully relinquished. The tide ebbs 
apace; the flame flickers fitfully in the socket; the 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 243 

last sands are quickly dropping from the glass. His 
son John whisperingly asks, "Are you not near 
heaven?" He answers distinctly, and with the most 
hope and triumph that could be expressed in words, 
"Yes, I am!" The group kneel around his bed 
for the last solemn duty. With deep emotion and 
faltering accents the same son offers the solemn 
commendatory prayer "for a sick person at the 
point of departure :" 

" 0, Almighty God ! with whom do live the spirits 
of just men made perfect after they are delivered 
from their earthly prisons, we humbly commend the 
soul of this thy servant, our dear father, into thy 
hands as into the hands of a faithful creator and 
most merciful savior, most humbly beseeching thee 
that it may be precious in thy sight. Wash it, we 
pray thee, in the blood of that immaculate Lamb 
that was slain to take away the sins of the world, 
that whatsoever defilements it may have contracted 
in the midst of this miserable and naughty world, 
through the lusts of the flesh or the wiles of Satan, 
being purged and done away, it may be presented 
pure and without spot before thee. And teach us 
who survive, in this and other like daily spectacles 
of mortality, to see how frail and uncertain our own 
condition is, and so to number our days that we may 
seriously apply our hearts to that holy and heavenly 
wisdom, while we live here, which may in the end 
bring us to life everlasting, through the merits of 
Jesus Christ, thine only son, our Lord! Amen." 



244 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

There is a momentary pause, and the sinking saint, 
referring to this final oflice of his Church toward her 
departing children, says, "Now you have done all!" 
It is "about half an hour after six; from which time 
till sunset he makes signs of offering up himself." 
The commendatory prayer again fills the death- 
chamber with its solemn sound; and, as its last 
sentences rise to the throne of the Eternal, the 
ransomed spirit of Samuel Wesley passes from its 
shattered home of clay. "With a cheerful counte- 
nance he falls asleep without one struggle, or sigh, 
or groan." His passage is so smooth and imper- 
ceptible that, "notwithstanding the stopping of his 
pulse, and ceasing of all sign of life and motion," 
his children continue bending "over him a good 
while, in doubt whether the soul were departed 
or no." 

Alas! it is a solemn, stern reality. The father 
of the Wesleys is dead! Just as the golden beams 
of that bright April day shot their last glances upon 
the dear old parsonage, the sun of the venerable 
rector completed its circuit, and, all radiant with 
celestial hues, gently declined behind the western 
hills of old age to shine in a higher, holier, more 
empyrean sky for evermore. 

"Not in the fiery hurricane of strife, 
'Midst slaughtered legions, he resigned his life ; 
But peaceful as the twilight's parting ray 
His spirit vanished from its house of clay, 
And left on kindred souls such power imprest, 
They seemed with him to enter into rest." 



LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR. 245 

Near the east end of the sacred edifice in which 
he so long ministered the Word of life a plain grit 
tombstone, supported by brick-work, marks the spot 
where his mortal remains are committed to the dust 
"in sure and certain hope of the resurrection unto 
eternal life." It bears the following inscription, com- 
posed by Mrs. Wesley herself, but the lines of which, 
as graven on the stone, are divided with a curious 
disregard of all propriety and meaning: 

HERE 

LYETH ALL THAT WAS 

MORTAL OF SAMUEL WESLEY, 

A. M. HE WAS RECTOR OF EP- 

WORTH 39 YEARS, AND DEPARTED 

THIS LIFE 25TH OF APRIL, 1735, 

AGED 72 : 

and as he lived so he died 

in the true catholic faith 

of the holy trinity in unity, 

and that jesus christ is god 

incarnate; and the only 

saviour of mankind, 

ACTS IV. 12. 

BLESSED ARE THE DEAD 

WHICH DIE IN THE LORD, YEA 

SAITH THE SPIRIT THAT THEY MAY 

REST FROM THEIR LABOURS AND 

THEIR WORKS DO FOLLOW THEM. 

REV. XIV. 13. 

Seven years pass away, and one bright Summer 
evening a grave man, little of stature and in full 



246 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

canonicals, stands on that plain grit tombstone, 
preaching to dense crowds who cover all the place 
of the dead. It is the son of the venerable man 
over whose ashes he now stands. He has been 
denied the use of the church by one who owes his 
very position as curate of Epworth and all that he 
has to the sire of that son whom he now excludes 
from the pulpit, and rudely repels from the table of 
the Lord. Eight successive nights does John Wesley 
cry aloud from the same hallowed spot; surrounding 
villages pour forth their inhabitants to swell the 
ever-increasing congregations ; hundreds are pricked 
in their heart by the preacher's word, and ask what 
they must do to be saved. As the zealous evangelist, 
to whom this out- door preaching is now no novelty, 
surveys the results of his week's hallowed toil, thinks 
of the past, and looks upon the whitening harvest- 
field inviting the sickle of the reaper, he exclaims: 
" 0, let none think his labor of love is lost because 
the fruit does not immediately appear! Near forty 
years did my father labor here, but he saw little fruit 
of his labor. I took some pains among this people 
too, and my strength also seemed spent in vain. 
But now the fruit appeared. There were scarce any 
in the town on whom either my father or I had 
taken any pains formerly; but the seed sown so 
long since now sprang up, bringing forth repentance 
and remission of sins." How true is the prophetic 
word: "For as the rain cometh down, and the snow, 
from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth 



LAST DAYS OP THE RECTOR. 247 

the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it 
may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so 
shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth : 
it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accom- 
plish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the 
thing whereto I sent it. . . . Instead of the thorn 
shall come up the fir-tree, and instead of the brier 
shall come up the myrtle-tree; and it shall be to the 
Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall 
not be cut off." 

These moral renovations took place at Epworth 
just seven weeks before Mrs. Wesley departed to 
rejoin her husband in the paradise of God. How 
would the blessed tidings gladden her few remaining 
days! Among those converted under the preaching 
of her son from his father's tomb were persons whose 
names were familiar to her memory. And may we 
not suppose that this blessed revival of religion, in a 
town where she and her husband had toiled so hard 
and long, would hold a foremost place among those 
themes of meditation and thankfulness upon which 
her very latest days were employed! 



248 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 



X. 

WIDOWHOOD. 

But it shall come to pass that at evening time it shall he 
light. — Book of Zechariah. 

Deeply affected was Mrs. Wesley during those 
sad and protracted watchings which saw her husband 
slowly sinking into the arms of death. Anxious, 
above all things, to fulfill her duty, and serve him to 
the last with her tenderest ministries, she frequently 
visited the chamber where the dying man lay. But 
for several days before his death the sight was too 
much for her to bear, and she was carried away 
faint and breathless. Her grief, however, was a still 
rain, which gently distills itself for many hours, rather 
than a tropic shower, rushing down in floods and past 
in a few moments. When all was over she was "far 
less shocked" than her children expected. "Now I 
am heard," said she calmly, "in his having so easy 
a death, and my being strengthened so to bear it." 

The rector no doubt died intestate, "not for lack 
of time to make a will, but for lack of means to 
bestow." One of his last "numan desires was to 
pay his debts." These, as we have already seen, 
only amounted to a little over a hundred pounds, 



WIDOWHOOD. 249 

besides some slight obligations to one of bis own 
relatives; and the stock and other property would 
probably meet the entire liabilities. But rapacious 
creditors are proverbially impatient ; and on the 
very day the rector was "buried, very frugally, 
yet very decently, in the church-yard, according 
to his own desire," a merciless creditor — a woman 
and a widow — seized "all the quick stock, valued 
at above forty pounds, for fifteen pounds," the rent 
due on a field at Low Melwood. The matter was 
adjusted by the intervention of John Wesley, who 
gave a note for the money. 

The very beginning of Mrs. Wesley's widowhood 
was thus overcast with clouds. Destitute of income, 
and most of her other children unable to help her, 
she was compelled to turn to her eldest son, whose 
noble liberality had so richly abounded, out of the 
depths of his own poverty, in past days. " If you 
take London in your way," writes Charles to Samuel, 
" my mother desires you will remember that she is a 
clergyman's widow. Let the Society give her what 
they please, she must be still, in some degree, bur- 
densome to you, as she calls it. How do I envy you 
that glorious burden, and wish I could share it with 
you ! You must put me in some way of getting a 
little money, that I may do something in this ship- 
wreck of the family, though it be no more than fur- 
nishing a plank." Happy indeed is the widow who 
has such sons to whom she can look in the hour of 
her deepest need! 



250 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

The parsonage, built mainly out of their own 
means, had now become a desolation. The well- 
known form and genial conversation of the rector are 
seen and heard no more. The old arm-chair is va- 
cant. The study is no longer visited by him who 
found it a peaceful refuge from so many cares. The 
books on the shelves are untouched by the wonted 
student-hand. The nursery, the school-room, and 
the parlor are all fertile in vivid reminiscences. There 
her children had grown up around her; and thence 
sons and daughters had gone forth, many of them to 
heaven in their infancy, where the paternal head of 
the family had now rejoined them forever, and the 
rest to brave the bleak Winter of a rude and hostile 
world. The wall-fruit growing up by the sides of the 
house ; the mulberry, cherry, and pear trees in the 
garden, and the stately walnuts " in the adjoining 
croft," were now full of sap, and blithe in their gay 
dresses of vernal foliage and blossom. On her own 
head the snows of Winter were falling fast, and an 
icy chill lay at her heart. With what sad emotion 
would the new-made widow take her farewell look at 
these mementoes of her husband's foresight and in- 
dustrial care ! The time has come when she must 
quit forever a place where many of the greatest 
events in her life had occurred. With what feelings 
would she leave the many associations, painful and 
pleasing, which clustered around that memorable 
spot! Epworth had been no paradise of unmixed 
delights to her. The serpent had often lurked within 



WIDOWHOOD. 251 

its inclosures. Poverty, like an armed man, had 
stood at the gate and sometimes crossed the thresh- 
old; and Death, with his merciless scythe, had mown 
down many a fair and beautiful flower. As, in 
widow's weeds and sable dress, she passes out of the 
dear old parsonage never more to return, 

"Some natural tears she dropp'd, but dried them soon.*' 

Her first resting-place, after she left the long-loved 
rectory, was the neighboring town of Gainsborough. 
But it was not in some pretty little rose-mantled cot- 
tage, nestling among shrubs and flowers, that she 
found a home. Her daughter Emilia had opened a 
school, and amid the din and bustle of a public es- 
tablishment the widow had to take up her abode. 
Nor was it on means adequate to her frugal wants, 
and insuring freedom from care, that she retired to 
wait the remaining days of her appointed time. Her 
circumstances were those of absolute dependence 
upon her children, or upon the charity of benevolent 
friends. It is stated by Kezzy, in a letter to John, 
that the widow of Mrs. Wesley's eldest brother left 
her a thousand pounds, the interest of which she was 
to receive, and the principal to be divided among the 
children at her death. But, even if the money were 
so left, there is no evidence that it ever came into 
the family's possession. With such an investment, 
supposed to have been left about a year before the 
rector's death, would Charles Wesley have entreated 
Samuel to pass through London and press her claims 



252 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

upon the charity of a Society for the relief of cler- 
gymen's widows ? And would he have declared that 
whatever the Society might grant, " she must be still, 
in some degree, burdensome " to her eldest son ? The 
thing is exceedingly improbable. For all that the 
Church, which her husband so long and faithfully 
served, has done for her, her few remaining years 
must be years of dependence and penury. 

After the lapse of more than a century there are 
still poor livings in the Establishment and miserable 
parsimony among thousands of Churches belonging to 
other denominations. Wealthy congregations freely 
accept the full ministerial services of able and godly 
men, who have given up all worldly enterprise for the 
cure of souls, on such a poor paltry pittance, that it 
is utterly impossible for them to make any provision 
for the time of old age, or the necessities of widows 
and children who may survive them. Should ex- 
hausting work break up the minister's constitution 
and bring him to a premature grave, are not his 
children paupers and his widow destitute ? Or if he 
toil on till his work becomes a burden which he can 
no longer bear, has he not to retire in age and fee- 
bleness, not having wherewith to make ends meet, 
even with the most self-denying economy? And all 
this, too, where there are among the Churches men 
of wealth who spend more on the mere luxuries of 
their table and the decorations of their mansions in 
one year than they contribute to the ministry in half 
a century ! Ought these things so to be ? Are the 



WIDOWHOOD. 253 

Churches to hold the principle that ministerial sup- 
port simply means a scant provision for the supply 
of daily wants ; and then, when the man of God, who 
has contributed so largely to their spiritual enrich- 
ment, can no longer work, think that they fulfill the 
measure of their duty by casting him upon the care 
of Providence, or coolly reminding him that his re- 
ward is in heaven? "If we have sown unto you 
spiritual things, is it a great thing if we shall reap 
your carnal things?" 

Happily, Mrs. Wesley had her three noble-hearted 
sons to lean upon, and they were no brittle or thorny 
staff. Charles, it is true, had no means of furnish- 
ing " even a plank in this shipwreck of the family." 
John's salary, as a college tutor, was small; and 
Samuel's income, when the needs of his own family 
are considered, was by no means ample. But they 
were men who would work their way ; willing to bear 
any burden to relieve their mother of care, and 
smooth the path of her declining days. To them 
the widow could look with confidence and hope. No 
sooner, however, was she safe in her temporary home 
at Gainsborough, than circumstances arose which 
compelled her to bid her two younger sons farewell, 
with but slight hopes of seeing them again in the 
flesh. 

Toward the close of 1726, or early in the following 
year, James Edward Oglethorpe — a soldier, states- 
man, patriot, and philanthropist — visited a friend im- 
prisoned for debt. This turned his thoughts toward 



254 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

the hardships of this class of prisoners. He obtained 
a Parliamentary Committee to inquire into .their 
condition and the best means of providing for them 
some effectual relief. It was ascertained that not 
less than four thousand persons were every year im- 
mured in jails from this cause alone. As the poor 
debtor entered the dungeon, rapacious keepers ex- 
torted money under the name of fees ; robbed him 
of any clothing or supplies of food which he might 
happen to possess; loaded him at their pleasure with 
irons; tormented him with stripes above measure; 
and, in many cases, compelled him to sleep upon the 
damp earth-floor of his cell. 

These disclosures led to the formation of the col- 
ony of Georgia, to which these unfortunate beings 
might emigrate and live by honest industry. An 
ample extent of land was granted to trustees by 
Royal Charter. Ten thousand pounds were voted 
from the public funds ; a like sum was raised by the 
trustees ; and public collections and private subscrip- 
tions were obtained from various quarters. The first 
company of emigrants consisted of thirty-five fami- 
lies, or one hundred and sixteen persons. They em- 
barked in November, 1732, under the command of 
General Oglethorpe ; and in the middle of the fol- 
lowing January, they arrived at their destination, 
where they had " the best motives for industry — a 
possession of their own, and no possibility of sub- 
sisting without it." Meanwhile, Protestant exiles 
from various continental countries, driven from their 



WIDOWHOOD. 255 

homes by Popish persecution, were invited to share 
the benefits of this promising settlement, and liberal 
contributions were given for their outfit and passage. 
This benevolent enterprise was warmly supported 
by young Samuel Wesley. Ever ready at the call 
of charity, he gave a subscription of one guinea, and 
a donation of five. He could not lay vessels of sil- 
ver or vessels of gold upon the altar, but he gave a 
" pewter chalice and patine for present use in Georgia, 
till silver ones are had." And the next year, " an 
unknown benefactor, by the hands of the Reverend 
Samuel Wesley," presented " two silver chalices and 
two patines for the use of the first Church in the 
town of Savannah." The father of the Wesleys was 
also among the first to congratulate Oglethorpe on 
" raising a new country, or rather a little world of 
his own, in the midst of almost wild woods and un- 
cultivated deserts, where men may live free and 
happy, if they are not hindered by their own stupid- 
ity and folly, in spite of the unkindness of their 
brother mortals." And only six short months before 
his death, he wrote the following noble sentences : 
" I am at length, I thank God, slowly recovering 
from a long illness, during which there have been few 
days or nights but my heart has been working hard 
for Georgia. I had always so dear a love for your 
colony, that if it had but been ten years ago, I would 
gladly have devoted the remainder of my life and la- 
bors to that place, and think I. might, before this 
time, have conquered the language — without which 



256 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

little can be done among the natives — if the Bishop 
of London would have done me the honor to have 
sent me thither, as perhaps he then might. But that 
is now over. However, I can still reach them with 
my prayers, which I am sure will never be wanting." 
Little did he imagine that, in less than twelve 
months from the date of this letter, he would be 
called to his final reward; his wife left a dependent 
widow; and his two younger sons embarked as mis- 
sionary ministers to this very sphere of labor. But 
so it was. The trustees and managers were most 
anxious to secure the regular observance of all re- 
ligious ordinances among the settlers, and to make 
the colony a base of evangelical operations among 
the surrounding aboriginals. They were, therefore, 
anxious to secure some earnest and self-denying 
ministers for this distant and difficult field. John 
Wesley and his companions at Oxford had already 
acquired a good reputation for the very qualities 
supposed to be most needed for such an appoint- 
ment. While visiting London to present his father's 
work on Job to Queen Caroline, Wesley heard that 
the trustees had fixed their attention upon him and 
his Methodist associates, as men who possessed the 
requisite habits and character for preaching the 
Gospel to the Georgian settlers and the neighboring 
Indians. Doctor Burton, who knew Wesley well, 
introduced him to General Oglethorpe, just returned 
from the colony. But when the mission to Georgia 
was proposed to John Wesley, he decidedly refused 



WIDOWHOOD. 257 

to accept it. Some of his objections were obviated, 
and the firmness of his resolution seemed shaken. 
Still he urged the case of his widowed and dependent 
mother. What a grief it would be to her if he, the 
staff of her age, and probably her chief support and 
comfort, should go to a land so very far off! Would 
he go if her consent could be obtained? asked the 
persevering negotiators. This he thought extremely 
improbable; but consented that the trial should be 
made, and secretly determined that he would accept 
her decision as the decision of Providence. He went 
to Gainsborough, where he spent three days, and laid 
the whole case before his mother and eldest sister. 
The consent of both was obtained; and the noble 
widow declared, " Had I twenty sons I should rejoice 
that they were all so employed, though I should never 
see them more." 

Surely if there ever were circumstances to justify 
a mother in using her utmost efforts to keep her sons 
at home, these circumstances now met in the case 
of Mrs. Wesley ! A widow, dependent and penniless, 
the sacrifice on her part can not be measured. But 
she had trained up those very sons for God and not 
for herself. He calls them to a life of glorious hard- 
ship and honor among distant and heathen peoples, 
and she gladly surrenders them for missionary service 
in a colony for which their father's last efforts were 
made and his last prayers offered. 

This is a wide contrast to the way in which the 

same demand is sometimes met by professedly re- 

22 



258 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

ligious parents in our own day. Worldly families 
make no demur when their sons go forth in quest 
of military honor or monetary gains. They submit 
willingly to years of separation and sacrifice for 
these mere earthly trifles. But when the Master 
calls for the sons and daughters of the Church for 
missionary service in foreign lands, how often do 
Christian parents interpose their authority and pro- 
nounce their veto ! Has God put it into the heart 
of your son to go far hence unto the Gentiles as 
an embassador for Christ? Has he disposed your 
daughter to link her fortune and her life with the 
youth who gives up all to preach the Gospel in 
the regions beyond? Will you, dare you interpose 
your authority between them and their noble mis- 
sion? Would you not freely yield them up for other 
services ; and will you withhold them from this ? 
Why should the oifer of a cadet's commission, a 
merchant's partnership, or a civilian's appointment 
be hailed as 'a good thing,' and the commission to 
preach Christ to the Gentiles be yielded to reluct- 
antly, with speeches about hardships and sacrifices?" 
What honor greater than that which will crown their 
holy toil ? When the wreath of fame woven by 
military prowess, or political sagacity, or literary 
effort shall wither in the dust, the coronet won by 
self-denying missionary service shall be "a crown 
of glory that fadeth not away." " He that winneth 
souls is wise ;" and " they that be wise shall shine 
as the brightness of the firmament; and they that 



WIDOWHOOD. 259 

turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever 
and ever." If, then, your children are called of 
God to this noble service, come not between them 
and their high destiny. Entwine not around them 
the silken threads of affection to bind them to your- 
selves; loose them and let them go, for the Lord 
hath need of them to extend the peaceful triumphs 
of his spiritual dominion. Think of the widow's 
words — "Had I twenty sons I should rejoice that 
they were all so employed, though I should never 
see them more." 0, bind the noble " sacrifice with 
cords, even unto the horns of the altar!" 

After spending some months with her daughter 
at Gainsborough, Mrs. Wesley went, in September, 
1736, to reside with her eldest son at Tiverton, where 
she remained till July, 1737. Thence she removed 
to the pleasant little village of Wootton, Wiltshire, 
where her son-in-law — the afterward notorious Hall, 
who had married her daughter Martha — was curate. 
Here she received the greatest possible kindness. 
"I tell you, because I know you will be pleased 
with it," she writes to a friend at Tiverton, "that 
Mr. Hall and his wife are very good to me. He 
behaves like a gentleman and a Christian, and my 
daughter with as much duty and tenderness as can be 
expected; so that on this account I am very easy." 
Her residence in this sequestered spot was evidently 
happy and profitable. The unhappy Hall had not 
yet entered upon those paths of licentious profligacy 
in which he afterward wandered so far and so long. 



260 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

His ministry seems to have been gentle and tender; 
his conversation godly and pleasant; his conduct as 
becometh the Gospel of Christ. Here, too, she occa- 
sionally enjoyed the fellowship and ministry of one 
of her sons. Charles speaks of spending two days 
there, one of them the Sabbath, on which he no 
doubt preached; and he calls them "days never to 
be forgotten." 

In the course of a few months Mr. and Mrs. Hall 
removed to Salisbury, and Mrs. Wesley accompanied 
them. While resident in this ancient cathedral city, 
there occurred several important circumstances which 
it would be unpardonable to pass over. Both her 
sons had returned from their bootless mission to 
Georgia. Broken down in health and constitution, 
as well as sorely distressed in spirit, they neverthe- 
less thought of returning to the scene of their se- 
verest trials. But their mother, however ready to 
give them up in the first instance, violently opposed 
their return. She probably saw that their mission 
had so far been a failure ; and when she learned, as 
she undoubtedly did from their own lips, the hard- 
ships they had undergone, the snares which had been 
unblushingly laid for their ruin, and the scandalous 
treatment they had received from their father's friend, 
who ought to have been their defense, she did per- 
fectly right when, in the words of her son Charles, 
" she vehemently protested against our returning to 
Georgia." 

After a long night of deep penitential sorrow, her 



WIDOWHOOD. 261 

two sons, John and Charles, conveyed to her the glad 
tidings that they had obtained the blessing of con- 
scious forgiveness, by faith in Jesus Christ. John's 
account, drawn up with his usual clearness and care, 
and accompanied by personal explanations, she fully 
indorsed, and expressed her thankfulness for the great 
spiritual change which he had experienced. Charles 
seems to have used terms in describing his former 
and present condition which somewhat startled her. 
She thought he had done himself injustice, and 
" fallen into an odd way of thinking " in stating that, 
till within a few months, he had " no spiritual life, 
nor any justifying faith." But she heartily rejoiced 
that he " had now attained to a strong and lively 
hope in God's mercy through Christ. Blessed be 
God," she continues, " who showed you the necessity 
you were in of a Savior to deliver you from the 
power of sin and Satan — for Christ will be no Savior 
but to such as see their need of one — and directed 
you by faith to lay hold of that stupendous mercy of- 
fered us by redeeming love. Jesus is the only phy- 
sician of souls ; his blood the only salve that can 

heal a wounded conscience There is none but 

Christ — none but Christ who is sufficient for these 
things. But, blessed be God, he is an all-sufficient 
Savior ! and blessed be his holy name, that thou hast 
found him a Savior to thee, my son ! let us love 
him much, for we have much forgiven." 

The time of her residence at Salisbury now drew 
to a close, and about April, 1739, she returned to the 



262 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

place of her birth, and spent the rest of her days in 
London. Fifty years before, in the very bloom and 
freshness of early married life, she had left the great 
and busy city to encounter the hardships and share 
the honors of a parochial minister's wife. She now 
returns to it a lone widow, aged and infirm, eyesight 
dim, and frame tottering on the verge of the grave. 
At her departure her father, mother, sisters, and 
brothers were still in the land of the living; now all 
are numbered with the dead. She alone survives out 
of that " two dozen, or a quarter of a hundred chil- 
dren" which once bore her maiden name. These for- 
mer days were probably called to remembrance as she 
entered her native city to spend, as she no doubt 
hoped, her remaining months in peace, undisturbed 
by further trouble. 

Alas ! heavy trials still awaited her. She soon had 
to mourn the death of her first-born, who had been 
her comfort in manifold sorrows ; to whose noble- 
hearted generosity the whole family had been so long 
and largely indebted; and in whose life her own 
seemed almost bound up. His health, never very ro- 
bust, seriously failed in the Autumn of 1739. " It 
has pleased God," he says, " to visit me with sick- 
ness, else I should not have been so backward in 
writing. Pray to him for us, ' that he would give us 
patience under our sufferings, and a happy issue out 
of all our afflictions ; granting us in this world knowl- 
edge of his truth, and in the world to come life ever- 
lasting.' " Still, he declares himself " on the mend- 



WIDOWHOOD. 263 

ing hand in spite of foul weather." But his consti- 
tution, worn by slowly-rolling years, was evidently 
exhausted. On the evening of the 5th of November, 
he retired to rest " about as well as he had been for 
some time." But at three in the morning he became 
alarmingly ill, and at seven "he resigned his soul to 
God." 

This was a heavy stroke to Mrs. "Wesley. She had 
given Samuel the preeminence over his brothers, as 
her counselor and friend. She had looked up to him 
as her natural protector, since his father's death ; and 
she had always fondly spoken of him as " son Wes- 
ley." How keenly she felt and nobly she sustained 
this bereavement the following beautiful passages 
from her letter to Charles clearly show : " Upon the 
first hearing of your brother's death I did immediately 
acquiesce in the will of God, without the least reluct- 
ance. Only I somewhat marveled that Jacky did 
not inform me of it before he left, since he knew 
thereof. But he was unacquainted with the manner 
of God's dealings with me in extraordinary cases, 
which, indeed, is no wonder ; for though I have so 
often experienced his infinite power and mercy in my 
support and inward calmness of spirit, when the trial 
would otherwise have been too strong for me, yet his 
ways of working are to myself incomprehensible and 
ineffable. Your brother was exceeding dear to me in 
his life ; and perhaps I have erred in loving him too 
well. I once thought it impossible for me to bear his 
loss ; but none know what they can bear till they are 



264 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

tried. As your good old grandfather often used to 
say, 'That is an affliction that God makes an afflic- 
tion.' For surely the manifestation of his presence 
and favor is more than an adequate support under 
any suffering whatever. But if he withhold his con- 
solations, and hide his face from us, the least suffer- 
ing is intolerable. But blessed and adored be his 
holy name, it hath not been so with me, though I am 
infinitely unworthy of the least of all his mercies ! I 
rejoice in having a comfortable hope of my dear son's 
salvation. He is now at rest, and would not return 
to earth to gain the world. Why, then, should I 
mourn ? He hath reached the haven before us ; but 
I shall soon follow him. He must not return to me ; 
but I shall go to him, never to part more. I thank 
you for your care of my temporal affairs. It was 
natural to think that I should be troubled for my dear 
son's death on that account, because so considerable 
a part of my support was cut off. But, to say the 
truth, I have never had one anxious thought of such 
matters ; for it came immediately into my mind that 
God, by my child's loss, had called me to a firmer de- 
pendence on himself: that though my son was good, 
he was not my God ; and that now our Heavenly Fa- 
ther seemed to have taken my cause more imme- 
diately into his own hand ; and therefore, even against 
hope, I believed in hope that I should never suffer 
more." 

It has often been observed that, just before the 
Lord Jesus was called to endure his protracted 



WIDOWHOOD. 265 

temptation, he received the brightest manifestation 
of his Heavenly Father's approval and love. The 
heavens were opened unto him; the Spirit of God 
descended like a dove and abode upon him; and, 
lo ! a voice from heaven, saying, " "Thou art my 
beloved son; in thee I am well pleased." Thus 
animated and strengthened, he was blessedly pre- 
pared to encounter the forty days' conflict in the 
wilderness. 

And does not God often so deal with his adopted 
children as well as with his only -begotten Son? To 
fit us for the severe trials which he foresees must 
come, he vouchsafes times of special refreshing and 
grace, that we may not be overwhelmed and swal- 
lowed up of overmuch sorrow. He so dealt with 
Mrs. Wesley. A very short time before the heavy 
tidings of her son's death reached her ear she had 
a most remarkable visitation to her soul. " Two or 
three weeks ago," she said, " while my son Hall was 
pronouncing those words, in delivering the cup to 
me, 'The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ which was 
given for thee,' the words struck through my heart, 
and I knew that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven 
me all my sins." Who can tell how much of that 
blessed calmness and resignation, so transparently 
reflected in the preceding letter, was due to the 
refreshing communications of grace through that 
sacrament of the Supper? Truly "the Lord is 
good, a stronghold in the day of trouble, and he 

knoweth them that trust in him." 
23 



266 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

Late in the Autumn of 1739 John Wesley took 
the old foundery in Moorfields, which had been shat- 
tered almost to pieces by a terrific explosion. He 
had it repaired and fitted up as a place of worship. 
In connection with it there was a dwelling-house, 
where Wesley, his friends, and his "helpers" found 
a home. To this town-house of the founder of 
Methodism,** at the very top of the building, Mrs. 
Wesley ultimately removed, and spent the few addi- 
tional months of her life. Here she enjoyed the 
society of her sons and several of her daughters. 
She was a diligent attendant upon all the means 
of grace in connection with the infant Methodist 
community ; and had the privilege of communion 
with "many good Christians, who refreshed, in some 
measure, her fainting spirits." 

In the death of her son Samuel this much-tried, 
but calm and trusting, widow had dismissed the 
eleventh of her children to the heavenly paradise — 
a series of heavy bereavements which few mothers 
have been called to sustain. Eight sons and daugh- 
ters still remain. Will they all survive her? Has 
her heart been riven oft enough, or must it pass 
through the pangs of bereavement once more, before 
it throbs for the last time? The first-born has gone, 
and now, in the course of a few months, the latest- 
born must follow. Sickly from her infancy, her 
youngest daughter passed thirty years of life in 
much feebleness; and on the 9th of March, 1741, 
"full of thankfulness, resignation, and love, without 



WIDOWHOOD. 267 

pain or trouble, she commended her spirit into the 
hands of Jesus, and fell asleep." 

This death of Kezzy was the widow's last great 
trial. The violence of the last enemy was no more 
heard in her tabernacle, nor his wasting and destruc- 
tion within her family borders. The days of her 
mourning were ended. Feeding in green pastures 
and led forth by the waters of comfort, with the 
shadows of death gathering around her, supported 
by the rod and staff of her good Shepherd, and ever 
ready to cheer with her counsel and blessing the 
apostles of Methodism, this mother in Israel waited, 
as in the Land Beulah, till the messenger came from 
the King of the Celestial City, and delivered unto 
her the welcome summons : " Hail, good woman ! I 
bring thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, 
and expecteth that thou shouldest stand in his pres- 
ence in garments of immortality." 



268 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 



THE RELEASE. 



Shortly, for I can scarce take off my pen from so exemplary a 
subject, her life and her death were saintlike. — Bishop Hall. 



The most prominent facts in Mrs. Wesley's per- 
sonal history which arrest the attention at a cursory 
glance, are, her extraordinary care in the education 
of her many children; her untiring attention to the 
management of the affairs of her household; her ex- 
tensive and accurate reading; the large amount of 
time spent in private devotion ; and the persevering 
use of her pen. It is felt that to discharge these 
manifold duties as she discharged them, and bear for 
fifty years the burden of care which daily came upon 
her, would be a heavy exaction upon the strongest 
constitution, and enough to fill up every moment of 
a long life without the slightest interruption from 
affliction or any other cause. 

This, probably, is the principal reason of the 
strong and general impression that Mrs. Wesley was 
a woman of robust constitution, rejoicing in a rich 
and constant flow of health; knowing nothing of 
wearisome weeks of confinement to her own room in 
consequence of feebleness or personal affliction. This 



THE RELEASE. 269 

impression rests entirely upon an imaginary founda- 
tion. She was a woman of comparatively delicate 
frame. Not only in the time of old age, but also in 
her years of prime, throughout her entire married 
life her health was very precarious, and she was fre- 
quently laid aside. 

Her first-born might have been called Jabez ; " for 
she bare him with sorrow." His birth was preceded 
and followed by " deep affliction, both of body and 
mind." A few years later she was confined to her 
room for many months, utterly " incapable of any 
business in the family," or the least attention to 
household affairs. As she passes over to " the right 
side of fifty," she represents herself as "infirm and 
weak ; rarely in health ; now and then having some 
very sick fits." Heavy tidings of her feebleness 
often reached the ears of her affectionate sons, who 
filled their letters with " compliments of condolence 
and consolation, on the supposition of her near- 
approaching end." 

The patient submission and even joy fulness with 
which she bore these tribulations is beautifully de- 
scribed in one of her morning meditations : " Though 
man is born to trouble, yet I believe there is scarce 
a man to be found upon earth, but, take the whole 
course of his life, hath more mercies than afflictions, 
and much more pleasure than pain. I am sure it 
has been so in my case. I have many years suffered 
much pain, and great bodily infirmities ; but I have 
likewise enjoyed great intervals of rest and ease. 



270 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

And those very sufferings have, by the blessing of 
God, been of excellent use, and proved the most 
proper means of reclaiming me from a vain conver- 
sation; insomuch that I can not say I had better 
have been without this affliction, this disease, this 
loss, want, contempt, or reproach. All my suffer- 
ings, by the admirable management of Omnipotent 
Goodness, have concurred to promote my spiritual 
and eternal good. And if I have not reaped the 
advantage of them which I might have done, it is 
merely owing to the perverseness of my own will, 
and frequent lapses into present things, and unfaith- 
fulness to the good Spirit of God ; who, notwithstand- 
ing all my prevarications, all the stupid opposition I 
have made, has never totally abandoned me. Glory 
be to thee, Lord!" 

This general debility and repeated sickness, which 
one of her daughters declares was " often occasioned 
by want of clothes or convenient meat," formed the 
subject of frequent meditation, and led her to realize 
most vividly the solemn fact that this was not her 
rest. She seemed to stand on the verge of eternity, 
glancing at the past with its crowded omissions and 
sorrowful memories, and looking earnestly into the 
future with its dread solemnities and awful issues. 
What can exceed the touching beauty of the follow- 
ing passage ? " Ah ! my dear son, did you with me 
stand on the verge of life, and saw before your eyes 
a. vast expanse, an unlimited duration of being, which 
you might shortly enter upon, you can 't conceive 



THE RELEASE. 271 

how all the inadvertencies, mistakes, and sins of 
youth would rise to your view ; and how different the 
sentiments of sensitive pleasures, the desire of sexes, 
and pernicious friendships of the world, would be 
then, from what they are now, while health is entire 
and seems to promise many years of life. 

' Believe me, youth, for I am read in cares, 
And bend beneath the weight of more than fifty years.' " 

As in many other cases, these anticipations of a 
comparatively early dissolution were not realized. 
She lived to a good old age ; but the earthly house 
was ready to shake with every passing breeze. The 
records of her closing hours are not so ample as w T e 
could desire; but they are precious and suggestive, 
affording every evidence of a blissful and triumphant 
close. When her son John, after a hurried ride from 
Bristol, where the tidings of her approaching end 
probably reached him, arrived in London on the 
20th of July, 1742, he wrote the touching sentence, 
" I found my mother on the borders of eternity !" 
Nature was rapidly giving way, and the bourne of 
life was reached. A few days before, her bodily 
sufferings were severe, and her mental conflicts fierce 
and torturing ; but now all doubts and fears are fled 
forever. There remains but one desire, " to depart, 
and be with Christ, as soon as God shall call." Her 
husband and twelve of her children are already with 
the Lord, and why should she longer tarry ? On the 
23d, just as the eyelids of the morning open upon 



272 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

her, and about twelve hours before her departure, she 
wakes from a quiet slumber, rejoicing " with joy un- 
speakable and full of glory." Her exultant expres- 
sions attract the attention of her children. They 
listen, and hear her saying, " My dear Savior ! art 
thou come to help me in my extremity at last?" 
From that moment " she is sweetly resigned indeed. 
The enemy has no more power to hurt her. The 
remainder of her time is spent in praise." 

Just after the customary midday intercession meet- 
ing — where fervent supplications were, no doubt, of- 
fered for her departing spirit — " her pulse is almost 
gone, and her fingers are dead." Her " change is 
near, and her soul on the wing for eternity." . That 
solemn Commendatory Prayer which, more than seven 
years before, rose over her dying husband at Ep- 
worth, and told that the hour of her widowhood was 
at hand, now rises from the lips of the same beloved 
son, commending her own soul into the hands of Him 
with whom ",are the issues from death." Her look is 
" calm and serene, and her eyes fixed upward." 
From three to four the silver cord is loosing; the 
wheel is breaking at the cistern ; and those who look 
out of the windows are being darkened. Her son 
and all her surviving daughters — Nancy, Emilia, 
Hetty, Patty,, and Sukey — sit down " on her bedside 
and sing a requiem to her dying soul." And what 
is the death-song which, in its beautiful burden of 
praise, rises from these tremulous but well-trained 
voices, as the grand accompaniment of the ascending 



THE RELEASE. 273 

spirit to the harmonies of heaven? Some of those 
strains u for one departing/' subsequently written by 
the dying widow's own minstrel son, would have been 
a most appropriate expression of the grateful sorrow 
of these devout children before Him who had been 
" pleased to deliver the soul of this their dear mother 
out of the miseries of this sinful world." Well might 
they have sung in her closing ears the words of that 
beautiful hymn — 

" Happy soul, thy days are ended, 

All thy mourning days below ; 
Go, by angel guards attended, 

To the sight of Jesus, go ! 
Waiting to receive thy spirit, 

Lo I the Savior stands above ; 
Shows the purchase of his merit, 

Reaches out the crown of love." 

When the sound of their song had ceased, "she 
continued," says John, " in just the same way as my 
father was, struggling and gasping for life, though — 
as I could judge by several signs — perfectly sensible, 
till near four o'clock. I was then going to drink a 
dish of tea, being faint and weary, when one called 
me again to the bedside. It was just four o'clock. 
She opened her eyes wide, and fixed them upward 
for a moment. Then the lids dropped, and the soul 
was set at liberty, without one struggle, or groan, or 
sigh. We stood around the bed and fulfilled her last 
request, uttered a little before she lost her speech : 
< Children, as soon as I am released, sing a psalm of 
praise to God V " 



274 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

" As soon as I am released !" — blessed, beautiful, 
most appropriate word! No wonder that, after such 
an utterance, it should be enshrined in more than one 
of Charles Wesley's noble funeral hymns, as in the 
following stanza : 

" Lo ! the prisoner is released, 

Lighten'd of her fleshly load; 
Where the weary are at rest, 
She is gather'd into God !" 

Yes ! death is not annihilation ; not an eternal 
sleep ; not a temporary suspension of conscious exist- 
ence and enjoyment. It is the sanctified spirit's final 
enfranchisement ; its release from the bondage of cor- 
ruption into the glorious liberty of the children of 
God ; its dismissal from the sorrows of time to the 
"fullness of joy" in the heavenly paradise. "And 
0, the immediateness of that joy! There is not a 
computable point of time. It is not a sand-fall. It 
is scarcely the twinkling of an eye. There lies my 
friend. He hastens to depart. Death is upon 
him. The change has well-nigh come. How lit- 
tle intervenes between his present humiliations and 
his awaiting glories ! I tremble to think what in 
an instant he must be ! How unlike all he was ! 
How extreme to all he is ! I bend over thee, and 
mark thy wasted, pallid frame — I look up, and there 
is ascending above me an angel's form ! I stoop to 
thee, and just can catch thy feeble, gasping whis- 
per — I listen, and there floats around me a seraph's 
song ! I take thy hand, tremulous and cold ; it is 



THE RELEASE. 275 

waving to me from yonder skies ! I wipe thy brow, 
damp and furrowed; it is in wreathed with the gar- 
land of victory! I slake thy lip, bloodless and 
parched ; it is drinking the living fountains, the over- 
flowing springs, of heaven !" " Therefore we are al- 
ways confident, knowing that, while we are at home 
in the body, we are absent from the Lord : (for we walk 
by faith, not by sight:) we are confident, I say, and 
willing rather to be absent from the body, and to 
be present with the Lord. Wherefore we labor, 
that, whether present or absent, we may be accepted 
of him." 

How beautiful and impressive, in the light of Mrs. 
Wesley's death-scene, are the following words to her 
son John, fifteen years before ! " You did well to 
correct that fond desire of dying before me, since you 
do not know what work God may have for you to do 
ere you leave the world. And besides, I ought, 
surely, to have the preeminence in point of time, 
and go to rest before you. Whether you could see 
me die without any emotions of grief, I know not. 
It is what I have often desired of the children, that 
they would not weep at our parting, and so make 
death more uncomfortable than it would otherwise be 
to me. If you, or any other of my children, were 
likely to reap any spiritual advantage by being with 
me at my exit, I should be glad to have you with 
me. But, as I have been an unprofitable servant 
during the course of a long life, I have no reason to 
hope for so great an honor, so high a favor, as to be 



276 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

employed in doing our Lord any service in the article 
of death. It were well if you spake prophetically, and 
that joy and hope might have the ascendant over the 
other passions of my soul in that important hour. 
Yet, I dare not presume, nor do I despair, but rather 
leave it to our Almighty Savior to do with me in life 
and death just what he pleases ; for I have no 
choice." Better than all her anticipations, when the 
appointed time arrived she had a death by which she 
"glorified God," and an exit from which her children 
might reap much " spiritual advantage.'' 

<( When faith and love, which parted from thee never, 

Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, 

Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load 
Of death, call'd life ; which us from life doth sever. 
Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavor, 

Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod ; 

But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod, 
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss forever. 

Love led them on, and faith, who knew them best 
Thy handmaids, clad them o'er with purple beams 

And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, 
And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes 

Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest, 
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams."* 

Eight days after her peaceful departure, "almost 
an innumerable company of people gathered together " 
in that great Puritan Necropolis — the Bunhill Fields 
Burying-Ground. Between four and five o'clock on 
the Sabbath afternoon the exanimated clay of Susanna 
Wesley was borne from the old Foundery to its final 



THE RELEASE. 277 

resting-place, till the morning of the resurrection. 
The funeral ceremonies, conducted by her son John, 
were most solemn and affecting. With faltering voice 
he pronounced : " Forasmuch as it hath pleased Al- 
mighty God, of his great mercy, to take unto himself 
the soul of our dear mother here departed, we there- 
fore commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, 
ashes to ashes, dust to dust ; in sure and certain hope 
of the resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord 
Jesus Christ!" A witness of the solemn ceremony, 
whose stray note has fallen into our hands, says : 
" At the grave there was much grief when Mr. Wes- 
ley said, ' I commit the body of my mother to the 
earth ! J " She came to her grave as a shock of corn 
' fully ripe, " in a good old age," and the people made 
great lamentation for her. 

As soon as the funeral service was ended, that 
same son stood up and preached a sermon over her 
open grave. His selected text had more reference to 
warning the living to flee from the wrath to come 
than to the eulogy of her who had just finished her 
course. The solemn and appropriate Scripture was, 
" I saw a great white throne, and Him that sat on it, 
from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away, 
and there was found no place for them. And I saw 
the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the 
books were opened, and the dead were judged out of 
those things that were written in the books, accord- 
ing to their works." that the sermon had been 
published ! that the warm-hearted and loving ref- 



278 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

erences to the life and character of the Mother of 
the Wesleys had been preserved to us ! What they 
were we are left to conjecture. But, says the 
preacher, "It was one of the most solemn assem- 
blies I ever saw, or expect to see, on this side eter- 
nity." 

Standing in the presence of this impressive scene, 
surrounded by the associations which this place of the 
dead so vividly awakens, one thought in connection 
with the history of the departed Susanna Wesley 
forcibly impresses the mind. Forsaking Non-Conform- 
ity in early life, and maintaining for many years a 
devout and earnest discipleship in the Established 
Church, which in theory she never renounces ; in the 
last two years of her life she becomes a practical 
Non-Conformist in attending the ministry and services 
of her sons, in a separate and unconsecrated " con- 
venticle." The two ends of her earthly life, separated 
by so wide an interval, in a certain sense embrace 
and kiss each other. Rocked in a Non-Conformist 
cradle, she now sleeps in a Non-Conformist grave. 
There, in close contiguity to the dust of Bunyan, the 
immortal dreamer; of Watts, one of the Church's 
sweetest psalmists ; of her sister Dunton, and many 
of her father's associates ; and directly opposite the 
spot where some of her children quietly rest, in the 
sister cemetery around City Road Chapel — her mor- 
tal remains await the " times of the restitution of all 
things." 

" We set up a plain stone at the head of her 



THE RELEASE. 279 

grave," says her son John, in closing his brief but 
beautiful record, "inscribed with the following words : 

'HERE LIES THE BODY 



MRS. SUSANNA WESLEY, 

YOUNGEST AND LAST SURVIVING DAUGHTER OF 
DR. SAMUEL ANNESLEY. 



In sure and steadfast hope to rise, 
And claim her mansion in the skies, 
A Christian here her flesh laid down, 
The cross exchanging for a crown. 
True daughter of affliction, she, 
Inured to pain and misery, 
Mourn'd a long night of griefs and fears, 
A legal night of seventy years. 
The Father then reveal'd his Son, 
Him in the broken bread made known ; 
She knew and felt her sins forgiven, 
And found the earnest of her heaven. 
Meet for the fellowship above, 
She heard the call, ' Arise, my love !' 
' I come I' her dying looks replied, 
And lamb-like as her Lord, she died." 



280 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 



XII. 

RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

Her assiduity in her religious course, the seasons, order, and con- 
stancy whereof seemed to be governed by the ordinances of heaven, 
that ascertain the succession of day and night; so that .... one 
might as soon divert the course of the sun as turn her from her 
daily course in religious duties ; this argued a steady principle and 
of the highest excellency, that of Divine love. — John Howe. 

The life of Mrs. Wesley, crowned with a death so 
peaceful and triumphant, was preeminently religious. 
As we contemplate her amid those diversified scenes 
and circumstances through which she was called to 
pass, the mind becomes forcibly impressed with the 
devoutness of her spirit and the steadfastness of her 
heart in the fear of God. Religion mingled with all 
her joys, and shed its serene and heavenly luster 
upon all her sorrows. She possessed great natural 
calmness and fortitude ; but the joy of the Lord was 
her strength. This was the secret power which sus- 
tained her in every trial, and finally gave her a happy 
issue out of all her afflictions. Her religious life, 
therefore, is a subject of deepest interest, and de- 
serves a careful consideration. Ample materials for 
such a purpose may be found in her meditations and 
letters ; and the best use we can make of them will 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 281 

be to throw a careful selection of passages into some- 
thing like order, accompanied by a few connecting 
and expository remarks. Mrs. Wesley will thus be- 
come the biographer of her own inner life, and the 
reader will have the advantage of receiving the de- 
scription of her religious state mainly from her own 
nervous and honest pen. 

In the spiritual experience of believers there is, 
generally speaking, a particular crisis, called con- 
version, which distinctly marks the commencement 
of the new life in the soul. Yielding in a moment 
to long-resisted convictions, they experience an in- 
stantaneous spiritual change. Thenceforth they look 
back upon that hour as the date of their new birth. 
This, however, is by no means a uniform law in the 
economy of grace. Some persons, who do not doubt 
the fact of their own conversion, can not point to 
any particular moment when they passed from death 
unto life. This, as the reader has already been told, 
was the case with Mrs. Wesley's father, who often 
declared that he did not remember the time when he 
was not converted; and this, in all probability, was 
the case with Mrs. Wesley herself. When her son 
Charles, in the fervor of his own new-found peace 
with God, was disposed to insist upon a knowledge 
of the exact moment of the great change as essential, 
to its possession, she wrote: "I do not judge it 
necessary to know the precise time of our con- 
version." 

Surrounded from infancy by religious influences, 
24 



282 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

and favored with a godly training, the seeds of truth 
probably took root imperceptibly, and ultimately 
brought forth fruit. Even the years of her child- 
hood were years in which she resolved not to spend 
more time in amusements in any one day than she 
spent in meditation and prayer. From the first 
religion was the one great subject of her thoughts, 
and the practice of piety was her daily effort. As 
she advanced in years there was no change, except 
that of increasing strictness and care in all spiritual 
things. There is a beautiful oneness in her religious 
experience and conduct, which is seldom found even 
among the most devout disciples of the Lord Jesus. 

The constant prayerfulness of her spirit commends 
itself to our strongest admiration. She believed that, 
under all circumstances, it was her privilege to seek 
and obtain Divine guidance and help. Not only her 
own personal wants, but the various events affect- 
ing the household, or any particular member of the 
family, had special seasons appointed in which she 
might spread them before the Lord. When her eldest 
son was doubtful about his election from Westminster 
to an Oxford scholarship, she besought him to "beg 
God's favor in this great affair," and observed: "If 
you can possibly, set apart the hours of Sunday 
afternoon, from four to six, for this employment, 
which time I have also determined to the same 
work." Prayer was, indeed, her very life. In it 
her great strength lay, and by it she overcame. 

In order that this devotional spirit might be more 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 283 

thoroughly cultivated and sustained, she coveted cer- 
tain set times for retirement, that she might "have 
leisure to worship and adore the Supreme Fountain 
of being." Surrounded by so many domestic cares, 
and with such heavy demands upon her attention, 
this might appear almost impossible. But before her 
calmly-resolute will and admirable method of re- 
deeming the time, all obstacles vanished away. Two 
hours of the day, one in the morning and another in 
the evening, with an occasional interval at noon, 
were consecrated to secret communion with God. 
There may be some danger that, as an old writer 
observes, " when devotion is thus artificially plaited 
into hours, it may take up our thoughts in formal- 
ities to the neglect of the substance." But this was 
not the case with Mrs. Wesley. These seasons of 
retirement were seasons of rich baptism and holy 
blessing. She came from her closet like Moses from 
the mount, her face radiant with the beauties of ho- 
liness. Having conversed with God, she appeared in 
her family bright, cheerful, and calm ; like Mary in 
the fervor of her devotion, and akin to Martha in 
the activity of her secular duties. If, in the order 
of his providence, God " did sometimes plainly in- 
terrupt or prevent such retirement, the same love to 
him which inspired her with a desire for it" calmed 
and guided her soul, and caused it humbly to ac- 
quiesce and submit to whatever he saw best for her 
to do or suffer." How rigidly she adhered to these 
set times of devotion, the following passage clearly 



284 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

indicates : " It is now about nine years since you 
more solemnly devoted yourself to His will, and since 
you resolved to spend at least one hour morning and 
evening in private duty, which resolution you have 
peremptorily adhered to. And though by sickness. 
and sometimes unavoidable business, you have occa- 
sionally contracted your devotions, yet your con- 
science can not accuse you of omitting them."* 

With Mrs. Wesley, prayer was not simply assum- 
ing a devotional attitude the moment she entered her 
closet, and uttering a few warm expressions. She 
regarded it as a most solemn act of worship, not to 
be entered upon without serious and considerate prep- 
aration. She charged herself to take, at least, a 
quarter of an hour to collect and compose her 
thoughts before she attempted to approach the throne 
of grace. " If but some earthly prince," she argued, 
" or some person of eminent quality, were certainly 
to visit you, or you were to visit him, would you not 
be careful to have your apparel and all about you 
decent, before you came into his presence ? How 
much more should you take care to have your mind 
in order when you take upon yourself the honor to 
speak to the Sovereign Lord of the Universe ! 
Upon the temper of the soul, in your addresses to 
him, depends your success in a very great measure. 
He is infinitely too great to be trifled with ; too 
wise to be imposed on by a mock devotion ; and he 
abhors a sacrifice without a heart. An habitual sense 

* Original Papers. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 285 

of his perfections is an admirable help against cold 
and formal performances. Though the lamp of de- 
votion is always burning, yet a wise virgin will arise 
and trim before going forth to meet the Bride- 
groom."* She also charged herself against vain 
mirth, immoderate anger, the least diversion, or even 
walking in the open air — " because it discomposed 
her head" — before the morning worship of the 
household had been offered. "If possible," she 
writes, "redeem some time for preparation for fam- 
ily prayer." 

Mrs. Wesley also attached great importance to the 
duty of self-examination, as a means of spiritual im- 
provement. A considerable portion of her hours of 
retirement was employed in communing with her own 
heart, as well as in fellowship with God. She en- 
deavored to keep her "mind in a temper of recollec- 
tion, often in the day calling it in from outward 
objects, lest it should wander into forbidden paths. 
Make an examination of your conscience," she con- 
tinues, " at least three times a day, and omit no op- 
portunity of retirement from the world." This was 
her practice for many years, till, in consequence of 
increasing infirmities, she " could not observe order, 
or think consistently, as formerly." The following 
quotation illustrates the searching manner in which 
she performed this self-inquisition : " You, above all 
others, have most need of humbling yourself before 
the great and holy God, for the very great and very 

* Original Papers. 



286 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

many sins you daily are guilty of, in thought, word, 
and deed, against his Divine Majesty. What an 
habitual levity is there in your thoughts ! How- 
many vain, impure thoughts pass through the mind 
in one hour ! And though they do not take up 
their abode for any long continuance, yet their pass- 
ing through often leaves a tincture of impurity. How 
many worldly regards, even in sacred actions, with 
habitual inadvertence ; seldom any seriousness, or 
composure of spirit ; the passions rude and tumultu- 
ous, very susceptible of violent impressions, from 
light and inconsiderable accidents, unworthy a rea- 
sonable being, but more unworthy a Christian. Keep 
thy heart with all diligence — thy thoughts, thy affec- 
tions — for out of them are the issues of life. Who 
can tell how oft he offendeth in this kind ? 0, cleanse 
Thou me from secret faults ! Out of the abundance 
of the heart the mouth speaketh. How many unnec- 
essary words are you guilty of daily? How many 
opportunities of speaking for the good of the souls 
committed to your care are neglected ? How seldom 
do you speak of God with that reverence, that hu- 
mility, that gravity that you ought? Your words, as 
well as your thoughts, are deficient. You do not 
conceive or speak of God aright. You do not speak 
magnificently or worthily of him who is the high and 
lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, the Creator of the 
Universe !"* In these deep searchings of heart, 

* When it is not expressly indicated that the quotations from Mrs. 
Wesley's meditations have been taken from the Original Papers, 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 287 

Mrs. Wesley probably did herself some injustice by 
rating her spiritual condition lower than it really 
was. But who does not admire the thoroughness 
with which she sought to find out any way of wick- 
edness, wherein her thoughts, affections, or words 
might, perchance, be still wandering? 

As the appointed time for receiving the Lord's 
Supper drew near, there was a special examination 
of her soul to ascertain whether she possessed the 
grace which fitted her to eat and drink worthily at 
the table of the Lord. " The Church/' she observes, 
" replies to that question, What is required of those 
that come to the Lord's Supper? To examine them- 
selves, whether they repent them truly of their former 
sins ; steadfastly purposing to lead a new life ; have 
a lively faith in God's mercy through Christ, with a 
thankful remembrance of his death ; and be in charity 
with all men." In self-humbling terms she discusses 
her experience in relation to every one of these 
points, and concludes, " You have, of late, often ex- 
perienced that the more accurate you have been in 
the work of preparation for the Sacrament, the more 
indisposed you have been for meditation and reflec- 
tion, for sometimes one, two, or three days after. 
And this hath been a great discouragement to you ; 
and you have thought that your soul has received no 

they are to be referred either to Clarke's Wesley Family, or to the 
Wesley Banner — a periodical in which considerable portions of 
these meditations were published a few years ago. After making 
my own extracts from the original, I ascertained that two or three 
of them had already appeared in the last-named publication. 



288 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

benefit from that sacred ordinance. Now, the reason 
of it I apprehend to be this — long, intense thinking, 
keeping the mind for a considerable time to hard ex- 
ercise, does necessarily impair the bodily strength, 
where persons are of a weak constitution, and the 
mind being under the influence of the body in this 
imperfect state, it can not exert itself till that hath 
again recovered its vigor, which requires some time ; 
and you may observe that as the body is refreshed, 
the soul is strengthened. Therefore be not discour- 
aged; but endeavor to keep your mind as composed 
as possible, and pray to God to preserve you from 
temptation during this bodily indisposition, and that, 
as your day is, so your strength may be." 

Religious meditation, which an old writer defines 
as " a sort of spiritual rumination," and which is so 
little practiced in our own bustling age, was another 
duty to which Mrs. Wesley attached considerable 
importance. " I see nothing," she writes to her son 
John, "in the disposition of your time but what I 
approve, unless it be that you do not assign enough 
of it to meditation ; which is, I conceive, incompar- 
ably the best means to spiritualize our affections, 
confirm our judgment, and add strength to our pious 
resolutions, of any exercise whatever." Her manu- 
scripts show that, in connection with self-examination 
and prayer, she meditated deeply upon the works of 
creation, and the ways of Providence ; the human 
frame, so fearfully and wonderfully made, and the 
powers and passions of the soul; the nature of vice 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 289 

and virtue ; the necessity, fullness, and boundless 
efficacy of the atoning work of Christ, on which she 
observes, that " were there as many worlds to save 
as Omnipotence could create, his own sacrifice of 
himself would be sufficient to save them all;" the 
operations of the Holy Spirit as the only source of 
all inward religion ; and the profound mysteries con- 
nected with the Divine existence and perfections. 
The last of these subjects seems to have possessed 
an irresistible charm for her mind. As she medi- 
tates upon the glory of God many beautiful sen- 
tences fall from her pen. "What is it," she asks, 
" to have a just sense of Almighty God, as he is 
distinguished into three subsistences ; namely, Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost ? Indeed I can not tell. After 
so many years' inquiry, so long reading, and so much 
thinking, his boundless essence seems more inexpli- 
cable, the perfection of his glory more bright and in- 
accessible. The further I search, the less I discover ; 
and I seem now more ignorant than when I first be- 
gan to know something of him." " But to behold 
him in Jesus Christ reconciling the world unto him- 
self; to see by faith that infinite, all-glorious Being 
assuming the character of a Savior, a Repairer of 
the lapse, a Healer of the diseases and miseries of 
mankind, is — what? It is something that penetrates 
and melts the soul. It is something the heart feels 
and labors under, but the tongue can not express. I 
adore, God ! I adore !" " Praise God for illumin- 
ating your mind, and for enabling you to prove de- 
25 



290 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

monstratively that his wisdom is as infinite as his 
power ! The use you are to make of these discov- 
eries is to praise, and love, and obey. Therefore be 
exceedingly careful that your affections keep pace 
with your knowledge; for if you study the Divine 
perfections as matters of mere speculation, your ac- 
quests of knowledge will but enhance your guilt and 
increase your future torments. You must know, that 
you may adore and love ! And if you are now more 
rationally persuaded that God is infinitely wise, then 
learn by this knowledge to practice a more hearty 
and universal subjection to him ; more cheerfully 
submit to the order of his providence ; submit your 
reason so far to your faith as not to doubt or scruple 
those points of faith which are mysterious to us 
through the weakness of our understanding, and 
adore the mystery you can not comprehend." 

Mrs. Wesley's delight was also in the law of the 
Lord, and diligently did she meditate upon all its 
precepts. She hailed with thankfulness the least de- 
gree of additional light upon any of its precious sen- 
tences, and used it as the means of attaining still 
more comprehensive views of truth. "What shall I 
call it," she asks, " providence or chance, that first 
directed my eye to the first verse of the thirteenth . 
of Zechariah — ' In that clay there shall be a fountain 
opened to the house of David, and to the inhabitants 
of Jerusalem, for sin and for uncleanness ' — when, for 
several nights, the Bible always opened on that place 
when I took it to read in the evening? Whatever it 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 291 

was, I have found a good effect of it; for by that 
means I have for so long a time had an opportunity 
of praising the eternal, infinite God for sending his 
Son into the world ; nor can I see that verse without. 
Glory be to thee, Lord!" And from this appar- 
ently trivial circumstance of her Bible opening at the 
same place on several successive evenings, she draws 
the following instructive conclusion : " That if the 
temper and disposition of the mind be good, there are 
very few things that occur in the ordinary course of 
life, however trivial or inconsiderable they may seem 
in their own nature, but what may prove a means 
of conveying grace into the soul. And it is only 
want of advertence, and a due care to implore the 
Divine blessing and direction in all our ways, that 
makes us so little the better for those little accidents 
we meet with in our daily converse in the world." 

The holy vigilance and resolute control which Mrs. 
Wesley exercised over herself, meet us at every turn 
of her history. Knowing that the " still small voice 
of the Divine Spirit is not heard amid the thunder 
and noise, the storms and tempests of tumultuous 
passions, be they raised either by intemperate joys 
or griefs," she strove to keep her mind perpetually 
composed and staid on God. " If you desire to live 
under the continual government and direction of the 
Holy Spirit, preserve an equal temper," was one of 
her most cherished rules of self-government. She 
also held her mouth as with a bridle, lest she should 
offend with her tongue. "It is, perhaps, one of the 



292 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

most difficult things in the world to govern the 
tongue ; and he that would excel herein must speak 
but seldom ; rarely, if ever, in passion of any kind. 
For it is not only in anger we are apt to transgress ; 
but all excess of other passions — whether love, hate, 
hope, fear, desire — does often unwittingly cause us to 
offend in words. Our blessed Lord hath told us that 
6 out of the abundance of the heart,' the affections, 
' the mouth speaketh.' The best way, therefore, to 
prevent evil-speaking of any sort is to purify the 
heart ; for till that be done, all resolves and cautions 
will be ineffectual." " It always argues a base and 
cowardly temper to whisper secretly what you dare 
not speak to a man's face. Therefore be careful to 
avoid all evil-speaking, and be ever sure to obey that 
command of our Savior in this case as well as others, 
< Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, 
do ye even so unto them.' Therefore be very cau- 
tious in speaking of these three sorts of persons ; 
namely, the innocent, the dead, and the absent." 
" In telling a story, or relating past actions, be care- 
ful to speak deliberately and calmly ; avoiding im- 
moderate mirth or laughter on the one hand, and 
uncharitableness and excessive anger on the other, 
lest your invention supply the defect of your mem- 
ory. Ever remember you are in the presence of the 
great and holy God. Every sin is a contradiction 
and offense to some Divine' attribute. Lying is op- 
posite and offensive to the truth of God." These 
are golden rules; and they were sacredly observed 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 293 

by her who formed them for the government of her 
own conversation. She opened her mouth with wis- 
dom, and in her tongue was the law of kindness. 

The same vigilant government was exercised over 
all her appetites and passions. "It is necessary for 
you," she writes, "if you would preserve your liberty 
and live free from sin, to mortify your appetites; for 
if they remain in power, restrain them as you will 
or can, still some circumstances or seasons will occur 
wherein they will betray you, and compel you to act 
contrary to your better judgment." She believed that 
"any passion in excess does as certainly inebriate 
as the strongest liquor immoderately taken." " The 
great difficulty we find in restraining our appetites 
and passions from excess often arises from the liber- 
ties we take in indulging them in all those instances 
wherein there does not, at first sight, appear some 
moral evil. Occasions of sin frequently take their 
rise from lawful enjoyments; and he that will always 
venture to go to the utmost bounds of what he may 
will not fail to step beyond them sometimes; and 
then he uses his liberty for a cloak of his licentious- 
ness. He that habitually knows and abhors the sin 
of intemperance will not stay too long in the com- 
pany of such as are intemperate; and because God 
is pleased to indulge us a glass for refreshment, will 
therefore take it when he really needs none. It is 
odds but this man will transgress; and though he 
should keep on his feet, and in his senses, yet he 
will perhaps raise more spirits than his reason can 



294 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

command; will injure his health, his reputation, or 
estate: discompose his temper, violate his own peace, 
or that of his own family; all which are evils which 
ought carefully to he avoided. It holds the same in 
all other irregular appetites or passions; and there 
may be the same temptations in other instances from 
whence' occasions of sin may arise. Therefore be sure 
to keep a strict guard, and observe well lest you 
use lawful pleasures unlawfully. Fly from occasions 
of evil." 

According to the rector's testimony, temperance 
was not the reigning virtue of the Isle of Axholme. 
This probably, among other considerations, led Mrs. 
Wesley to regard with horror any practices which 
might lead to the sin of intoxication. "Proper 
drunkenness," she observes, "does I think consist 
in drinking such a quantity of strong liquor as will 
intoxicate, and render the person incapable of using 
his reason with that strength and freedom as he can 
at other times. Now, there are those that by habitual 
drinking a great deal of such liquors can hardly ever 
be guilty of proper drunkenness, because never in- 
toxicated. But this I look upon as the highest kind 
of the sins of intemperance." Mrs. Wesley was 
probably in no danger of falling into this lamentable 
habit, but she determined to guard every avenue to 
its approach. The common practice of the times 
was for the members of any -.jsjteial party to "keep 
the rounds in drinking healths." Regarding this as 
a strong temptation to many, she resolved never to 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 295 

countenance the custom by joining in it; and she 
publicly made known her reasons for refusing. She 
also made a solemn vow that she would never drink 
more than two glasses at one time.* As a student 
and admirer of Herbert, she probably based her reso- 
lution on this homely exhortation : 

"Drink not the third glass — which, thou canst not tame 
When once it is within thee, but before 
May'st rule it as thou list — and pour the shame 

Which it would pour on thee upon the floor. 
It is most just to throw that on the ground 
Which would throw me there if I keep the round." v 

If ever she made the least approach to any in- 
fringement of this rule, she severely chided herself 
for the indiscretion. "I do not approve," she writes, 
"of your drinking twice of ale in so short a time; 
not that I think it unlawful for another to do so, 
or that it is a direct breach of your vow, but it is 
injurious to your health, and so does not fall under 
your own rule; namely, never to drink any thing 
strong but merely for refreshment. You have great 
reason to adore the great and good Grod that hath 
given you so nice a constitution as will not bear the 
least degree of intemperance. He might have made 
you strong to endure the excess that others run 
into, and so you might often have been exposed to 
temptations to offend; whereas you are now doubly 
guarded, both by his wise and holy laws and an 
infirm body. Glory be to thee, Lord!"f 

* Original Papers. -J- Ibid. 



296 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

Temptation is the common lot of the Lord's people, 
and Mrs. Wesley was sometimes violently assailed 
by the enemy of her soul. But when the dark 
hours came she endeavored to encourage herself by 
a review of God's merciful, loving kindness toward 
her. "If he had been willing you should perish," 
she argues with herself, " he might have let you 
perish without the expense of so many miracles to 
save you. Why did he give you birth in a Christian 
country, of religious parents, by whom you were 
early instructed in the principles of religion? Why 
hath he waited so long to be gracious? Why hath 
his providence so often prevented you ; and why 
hath the same good providence so often reclaimed 
you by punishments and mercies? Why hath his 
spirit so long striven with you, cooperating with the 
means of grace, illuminating your mind, purifying 
your affections, in some measure awakening your 
conscience, not suffering you to enjoy any rest or 
quiet in the course of sin? And though sometimes 
you have been impatient under checks of conscience 
under less miscarriages, yet he hath not given you 
over till he hath brought you to repentance. You 
may remember the time when you were strongly 

inclined to ;* and you can not forget that state 

of temptation that you were in for two whole years, 
and what a doubtful conflict you then sustained. 
But yet the good Spirit of -God never totally left 

* The allusion is probably to her strong inclination to Socinianism, 
as recorded in the second chapter. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 297 

you; but the better principle at last prevailed, to 
the eternal glory of free grace. And may you not 
argue as Manoah's wife : If the Lord were pleased 
to destroy me, were willing that I should perish, 
would he have at all regarded my prayers? Would 
he have enabled me, through the assistance of his 
Holy Spirit, to conquer this temptation, and to break 
such an inveterate habit of evil thinking ?" 

But did Mrs. Wesley merely live a sort of cloister 
life, whose quiet contemplations were unbroken by 
any care or activity for the spiritual welfare of 
others? Was she entirely absorbed in the concerns 
of her own soul ? She believed that " religion is not 
to be confined to the church or closet, nor exer- 
cised only in prayer and meditation." It must be 
remembered, however, that our present facilities for 
Christian effort, where the humblest talents may find 
some appropriate sphere of usefulness, were mostly 
unknown in her day. The family was almost the 
only vineyard in which she could work; and here 
she toiled well and successfully, employing every 
talent and gathering an ample vintage. There is, 
however, one interesting season of holy activity to 
which special reference must be made. 

Toward the close of 1711 her husband went to 
London, where he remained several months. His 
place was supplied by a very inefficient curate, and 
public worship was held only on the Sabbath morning. 
Mrs. Wesley felt that, as the mistress of a large 
family of children and servants, it was her duty to 



298 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

hold some religious service in the parsonage, lest 
the greater part of the Lord's day should be spent 
in idleness or frivolity. "And though the superior 
charge of the souls contained in the household lies 
upon you, as the head of the family and as their 
minister," she writes to her husband, "yet in your 
absence I can not but look upon every soul yoji 
leave under my care as a talent committed to me, 
under a trust, by the great Lord of all the families 
of heaven and earth; and if I am unfaithful to him 
or to you in neglecting to improve these talents, 
how shall I answer unto him when he shall com- 
mand me to render an account of my stewardship? 
As these and other such like thoughts made me at 
first take a more than ordinary care of the souls 
of my children and servants, so, knowing that our 
most holy religion requires a strict observation of 
the Lord's day, and not thinking that we fully an- 
swered the end of the institution by only going to 
church, but that likewise we are obliged to fill up 
the intermediate spaces of that sacred time by other 
acts of piety and devotion, I thought it my duty 
to spend some part of the day in reading to and 
instructing my family, especially in your absence, 
when, having no afternoon's service, we have so 
much leisure for such exercises ; and such time I 
esteemed spent in a way more acceptable to God 
than if I had retired to my own private devotions." 

The tidings of these services soon spread abroad. 
The servant boy told his parents, who earnestly de- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 299 

sired to be present ; and others solicited the like 
privilege, till the number amounted to thirty or forty. 
With this little company she sang psalms, read pray- 
ers, and also a short sermon. She did this with the 
utmost self-diffidence. " I never durst positively pre- 
sume to hope," she observes, " that God would make 
use of me as an instrument in doing good. The fur- 
thest I ever durst go was, It may be ; who can tell ? 
With God all things are possible. I will resign my- 
self to him ; or, as Herbert better expresses it — 

1 Only — since God doth often vessels make, 
Of lowly matter, for high uses meet — 

I throw me at his feet. 
There will I lie, till my Maker seek 
For some mean stuff whereon to show his skill ; 
Then is my time.' 

And thus I rested, without passing any reflection on 
myself, or forming any judgment about the success 
or event of this undertaking." 

Mrs. Wesley herself also became the subject of a 
gracious spiritual quickening, produced in a most re- 
markable way. At the beginning of the eighteenth 
century, Frederick, King of Denmark, resolved to 
establish a mission for the conversion of the heathen 
at Tranquebar. He sent out Zeigenbalg and Plutscho, 
two noble Christian ministers, whose gifts and grace 
eminently fitted them for this sacred enterprise. The 
little volume, containing an account of their self- 
denying labors in the commencement of the mission, 
found its way into the Epworth parsonage, and very 



300 THE MOTHER OE THE WESLEYS. 

probably suggested to the rector the missionary 
scheme which he propounded and . offered to initiate 
by his personal labors. It also fell into the hand of 
Mrs. Wesley, and none but her own words can de- 
scribe the blessed effects which it produced upon her 
mind. " Soon after you went to London," she writes 
to her husband, " Emilia found in your study the ac- 
count of the Danish missionaries, which, having never 
seen, I ordered her to read to me. I was never, I 
think, more affected with any thing than with the re- 
lation of their travels ; and was exceeding pleased 
with the noble design they were engaged in. Their 
labors refreshed my soul beyond measure ; and I 
could not forbear spending good part of that evening 
in praising and adoring the Divine goodness for in- 
spiring those good men with such an ardent zeal for 
his glory, that they were willing to hazard their lives 
and all that is esteemed dear to men in this world, 
to advance the honor of their Master, Jesus. For 
several days I could think or speak of little else. At 
last it came into my mind, though I am not a man 
nor a minister of the Gospel, and so can not be em- 
ployed in such a worthy employment as they were ; 
yet, if my heart were sincerely devoted to God, and 
if I were inspired with a true zeal for his glory, and 
did really desire the salvation of souls, I might do 
somewhat more than I do. I thought I might live 
in a more exemplary manner in some things ; I might 
pray more for the people, and speak with more 
warmth to those with whom I have the opportunity 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 301 

of conversing. However, I resolved to begin with 
my own children." 

She immediately commenced those private confer- 
ences with each child, described in a previous chap- 
ter; and discoursed more freely and affectionately 
with the few neighbors who attended her Sabbath- 
services in the parsonage. She read to them the 
best and most awakening sermons the rector's library 
could supply, and spent a greater amount of time in 
these holy exercises. Many of the hearers became 
deeply impressed; the spirit of religious inquiry was 
excited in the town, till two hundred persons crowded 
into the parsonage, " while many went away for want 
of room." There was, in fact, a great and blessed 
revival; and the results were extensive and striking. 
Some families who seldom attended Divine service, 
began to go constantly ; and one man who had not 
entered the church for seven years, became a regular 
hearer of the Word. " Besides the constant attend- 
ance on the public worship of God," continues Mrs. 
Wesley, " our meeting has wonderfully conciliated the 
minds of this people toward us, so that we now live 
in the greatest amity imaginable. And, what is still 
better, they are very much reformed in their behavior 
on the Lord's day. Those who used to be playing 
in the streets, now come to hear a good sermon read, 
which is surely more acceptable to Almighty God. 
Another reason for what I do is, that I have no 
other way of conversing with this people, and, there- 
fore, have no other way of doing them good. But 



302 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

by this I have an opportunity of exercising the great- 
est and noblest charity, that is, charity to their souls. 
There are many other good consequences of this meet- 
ing, which I have not time to mention." 

These remarkable services were approved and ap- 
preciated by the generality of the parishioners ;■ but 
a few, headed by the curate, sent heavy complaints 
to the rector and entreated him to stop such ques- 
tionable proceedings in his own house. Mrs. Wesley 
received a letter from her husband, stating the com- 
plaints, and making some further inquiries. He re- 
minded her that the whole affair was regarded as 
very singular ; and- she replied : " As to its looking 
particular, I grant it does. And so does almost 
every thing that is serious, or that may any way 
advance the glory of God or the salvation of souls, 
if it be performed out of a pulpit, or in the way of 
common conversation ; because, in our corrupt age, 
the utmost care and diligence have been used to ban- 
ish all discourse of God or spiritual concerns out of 
society ; as if religion were never to appear out of 
the closet, and we were to be ashamed of nothing so 
much as of professing ourselves to be Christians." 

But was there not some objection taken to these 
services, on the ground that they were conducted by 
a female ? Apparently there was ; and Mrs. Wesley 
herself felt the objection to some extent. " There is 
one thing," she observes, " about which I am much 
dissatisfied; that is, their being present at family 
prayers. I do not speak of any concern I am under 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 303 

barely because so many are present ; for those 
who have the honor of speaking to the great and 
holy God need not be ashamed to speak before the 
whole world; but because of my sex. I doubt if it 
be proper for me to present the prayers of the people 
to God. Last Sunday I fain would have dismissed 
them before prayers ; but they begged so earnestly 
to stay, that I durst not deny them." Why, then, 
if her doubts troubled her, did she not get some one 
else to perform the service? Her own reply is suffi- 
ciently cogent : " Alas ! you do not consider what a 
people these are. I do not think one man "among 
them could read a sermon, without spelling a good 
part of it ; and how would that edify the rest ? Nor 
has any of our family a voice strong enough to be 
heard by such a number of people." Had Mrs. 
Wesley ascended the pulpit and assumed the sacred 
office, like some of the modern sisterhood, the objec- 
tion, in our judgment, would have been a valid and 
Scriptural one. But she held the services in her 
own house, without ever attempting to take a text or 
preach a sermon. She simply read an awakening 
discourse and allowed the neighbors to remain at her 
customary family worship. In this way she strove 
after usefulness, and, to some extent, resembled those 
honorable women of whom Saint Paul, in his Epistle 
to the Romans, declared that they helped- him much 
in the Lord. 

Did not this proceeding, however, turn the parson- 
age into a conventicle and damage the regular serv- 



304 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

ices at the church ? This was alleged at the time : 
and what was Mrs. Wesley's reply ? "I shall not 
inquire how it was possible that you should be pre- 
vailed on, by the senseless clamors of two or three 
of the worst of your parish, to condemn what you so 
lately approved. But I shall tell you my thoughts 
in as few words as possible. I do not hear of more 
than three or four persons who are against our meet- 
ing, of whom Inman* is the chief. He and Whitely, 
I believe, may call it a conventicle ; but we hear no 
outcry here, nor has any one said a word against it 
to me. And what does their calling it a conventicle 
signify ? Does it alter the nature of the thing ? or 
do you think that what they say is a sufficient reason 
to forbear a thing that has already done much good, 
and by the blessing of God may do much more ? If 

-This was the Epworth curate, concerning whose preaching the 
following story is recorded. On one occasion when the rector re- 
turned from London, the parishioners complained that Inman 
preached nothing to his congregation except the duty of paying 
their debts, and behaving well among their neighbors. They added 
that they thought religion comprehended something more than this. 
The rector fully agreed with their views, and resolved to judge for 
himself. He said to the curate, " You could, I suppose, prepare a 
sermon upon any text that I should give you?" "By all means, 
sir," was the ready reply. " Then," said the rector, " prepare a 
sermon on that text, ' Without faith it is impossible to please 
God.' " When the Sabbath morning came, the curate ascended the 
pulpit, and read his text with great solemnity. But, alas, the first 
sentence of his exordium touched upon the old theme : " It must be 
confessed, friends, that faith is an excellent virtue ; and it produces 
other virtues also. In particular, it Makes a man pay his debts as 
soon as possible." He vigorously enforced the observance of the 
social virtues for the usual fifteen minutes, and then concluded. 
" So," said John Wesley, " my father saw it was a lost case." 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 305 

its being called a conventicle, by those who know in 
their conscience they misrepresent it, did really make 
it one, what you say would be somewhat to the pur- 
pose. But it is plain, in fact, that this one thing has 
brought more people to church than ever any thing 
did, in so short a time. We used not to have above 
twenty or twenty-five at evening service ; whereas 
we have now between two and three hundred, which 
are more than ever came before to hear Inman in 
the morning." 

But as Mrs. Wesley's husband was a minister and 
a man of note in the Church to which he belonged, 
would not these irregularities in his own house be 
likely to bring scandal upon his name? To this 
objection his wife replied, that the meetings were 
purely religious, without any worldly design. "And 
where," she asks, "is the harm of this? If I and 
my children went a visiting on Sunday nights, or if 
we admitted of impertinent visits, as too many do 
who think themselves good Christians, perhaps it 
would be thought no scandalous practice, though in 
truth it would be so. Therefore, why any should 
reflect upon you, let your station be what it will, 
because your wife endeavors to draw people to the 
church, and to restrain them by reading and other 
persuasions from their profanation of God's most 
holy day, I can not conceive. But if any should 
be so mad as to do it, I wish you would not regard 
it. For my part, I value no censure on this account. 

I have long since shook hands with the world, and I 
26 



306 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

heartily wish I had never given them more reason to 
speak against me." 

She closes her vindication with the following noble 
appeal to her husband: "Now, I beseech you, weigh 
all these things in an impartial balance. On the one 
side, the honor of Almighty God, the doing much 
good to many souls, and the friendship of the best 
among whom we live; on the other — if folly, im- 
piety, and vanity may abide in the scale against so 
ponderous a weight — the senseless objections of a 
few scandalous persons laughing at us, and censuring 
us as precise and hypocritical; and when you have 
duly considered all things let me have your positive 
determination. I need not tell you the consequences 
if you determine to put an end to our meeting. You 
may easily perceive what prejudice it may raise in 
the minds of these people against Inman especially, 
who has had so little wit as to speak publicly against 
it. I can now keep them to the church; but if it be 
laid aside I doubt they will never go to hear him 
more, at least those who come from the lower end 
of the town; but if this be continued till you return, 
which now will not be long, it may please God that 
their hearts may be so changed by that time that 
they may love and delight in his public worship so 
as never to neglect it more. If you do, after all, 
think fit to dissolve this assembly, do not tell me 
that you desire me to do it, for that will not satisfy 
my conscience; but send me your positive command, 
in such full and express terms as may absolve me 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 307 

from all guilt and punishment for neglecting this 
opportunity of doing good when you and I shall 
appear before the great and awful tribunal of our 
Lord Jesus Christ." 

This forcible letter seems to have silenced her 
husband's scruples, and Mrs. Wesley went on her 
way, rejoicing that she was counted worthy to be an 
instrument of good to the souls of others. God had 
made her a blessing to many. Her labors had dis- 
armed the hostility of the parishioners, and laid the 
foundation of mutual good-will between the pastor 
and the people of his charge. When the rector re- 
turned, and the full Sabbath services at the church 
were resumed, the gatherings at the parsonage were 
discontinued; but their hallowing and gracious influ- 
ences upon the family and the neighborhood were 
long felt, and can never be fully estimated. 

Thus far attention has been chiefly confined to the 
external aspects of Mrs. Wesley's religious course. 
But was her religion simply a form of godliness — 
a mere observance, strict and constant it may be, 
of the outer duties, without the real inner life? It 
is clear that her own idea of religion comprehended 
far more than this. She believed in the personal 
possession of the Divine favor and image, and felt 
that all mere speculative knowledge of God and 
spiritual things came far short of the privileges 
which the Gospel offers to them that believe. An 
occasional sense of the Divine presence was refresh- 
ing to her mind; "but how much more delightful 



308 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

is it," she observes, "to find a constant sense of 
God upon the soul, as Herbert excellently express- 
ed it — 

' Not — thankful, when it pleaseth me j 
As if thy blessings had spare days : 
But such a heart whose pulse may be 
Thy praise !' 

This, this is the temper of a Christian! This is 
what you should chiefly endeavor to get and keep. 
Do not despair; with God all things are possible!'' 

On another occasion she writes in the following 
beautiful strain : " To know God only as a philoso- 
pher; to have the most sublime and curious specu- 
lations concerning his essence, his attributes, his 
providence ; to be able to demonstrate his being 
from all or any of the works of nature; and to 
discourse with the greatest elegancy and propriety 
of words of his existence or operations, will avail 
us nothing, unless at the same time we know him 
experimentally; unless the heart perceive and know 
him to be its supreme good, its only happiness; un- 
less the soul feel and acknowledge that she can find 
no repose, no peace, no joy but in loving and being 
beloved by him; and does accordingly rest in him as 
the center of her being, the fountain of her pleasure, 
the origin of all virtue and goodness, her light, her 
life, her strength, her all — every thing she wants or 
wishes in this world, and forever! In a word, her 
Lord, her God ! Thus let me ever know thee, 
God ! I do not despise nor neglect the light of 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 309 

reason, nor that knowledge of thee which by her 
conduct may be collected from this goodly system 
of created beings; but this speculative knowledge is 
not the knowledge I want and wish for." 

There are beautiful and satisfactory indications that 
these intense aspirations of soul were attained. How 
rich the experience which flows through the following 
sentences ! " If to esteem and have the highest rev- 
erence for Thee; if constantly and sincerely to ac- 
knowledge thee the supreme, the only desirable good, 
be to love thee — I do love thee ! If to rejoice in 
thy essential majesty and glory ; if to feel a vital 
joy overspread and cheer the heart at each percep- 
tion of thy blessedness, at every thought that thou 
art God, and that all things are in thy power ; that 
there is none superior or equal to thee, be to love 
thee — I do love thee ! If comparatively to despise 
and undervalue all the world contains, which is es- 
teemed great, fair, or good; if earnestly and con- 
stantly to desire thee, thy favor, thy acceptance, 
thyself, rather than any or all things thou hast cre- 
ated, be to love thee — I do love thee !" 

Again, she writes : " Give God the praise for any 
well-spent day. But I am yet unsatisfied, because I 
do not enjoy enough of God. I apprehend myself 
at too great a distance from him. I would have my 
soul more closely united to him by faith and love. I 
can appeal to his omniscience, that I would love him 
above all things. He that made me knows my de- 
sires, my expectations, my joys all center in him, 



310 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

and that it is he himself that I desire ; it is his fa- 
vor, it is his acceptance, the communications of his 
grace, that I earnestly wish for more than any thing 
in the world ; and that I have no relish or delight in 
any thing when under apprehensions of his displeas- 
ure. I rejoice in his essential glory and blessedness. 
I rejoice in my relation to him, that he is my Father, 
my Lord, and my God ! I rejoice that he has power 
over me, and desire to live in subjection to him ; that 
he condescends to punish me when I transgress his 
laws, as a father chasteneth the son whom he loveth. 
I thank him that he has brought me so far ; and will 
beware of despairing of his mercy for the time which 
is yet to come, but will give God the glory of his 
free grace." 

Five and twenty years later, amid the desolations 
of her widowhood, she describes her spiritual condi- 
tion in the same calm and confident strain, though 
not without an expression of regret that she did not 
long for heaven with far greater intensity. " God is 
being itself! the I AM! and therefore must neces- 
sarily be the Supreme Good ! He is so infinitely 
blessed, that every perception of his blissful presence 
imparts a vital gladness to the heart. Every degree 
of approach toward him is, in the same proportion, a 
degree of happiness. And I often think, that were 
he always present to our mind, as we are present to 
him, there would be no pain nor sense of misery. I 
have long since chose him for my only good, my all ; 
my pleasure ; my happiness in this world, as well as 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 311 

in the world to come. And although I have not been 
so faithful to his grace as I ought to have been, yet 
I feel my spirit adheres to its choice, and aims daily 
at cleaving steadfastly unto God. Yet one thing 
often troubles me, that, notwithstanding I know that 
while we are present with the body we are absent 
from the Lord; notwithstanding I have no taste, no 
relish left for any thing the world calls pleasure ; yet 
I do not long to go home as in reason I ought to do. 
This often shocks me. And as I constantly pray, 
almost without ceasing, for thee, my son, so I beg 
you likewise to pray for me, that God would make 
me better, and take me at the best." 

Later still, when infirmities became numerous and 
eternity was fast approaching, she writes of herself 
in a more depreciatory strain : " In the most literal 
sense, I am become a little child, and want continual 
succor. ' As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the coun- 
tenance of a man his friend.' I feel much comfort 
and support from religious conversation when I can 
obtain it. Formerly I rejoiced in the absence of 
company, and found, the less I had of creature com- 
forts, the more I had from God. But, alas, I am 
fallen from that spiritual converse I once enjoyed ! 
And why is it so ? Because I want faith. God is 
an omnipresent, unchangeable Good, in whom is no 
variableness, neither shadow of turning. The fault 
is in myself; and I attribute all mistakes in judg- 
ment, and all errors in practice, to want of faith in 
the blessed Jesus. my dear Charles, when I 



312 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

consider the dignity of his person, the perfection of 
his purity, the greatness of his sufferings, but above 
all, his boundless love, I am astonished and utterly 
confounded ; I am lost in thought. I fall into noth- 
ing before him ! how inexcusable is that person 
who has knowledge of these things, and yet remains 
poor and low in faith and love ! I speak as one 
guilty in this matter." 

Too much stress must not be laid upon the terms 
in which Mrs. Wesley here speaks of her decline 
from the spiritual converse which she once enjoyed. 
They were written in December, 1739, only three 
months after that memorable Sacramental season of 
which she said, " I knew God for Christ's sake had 
forgiven me all my sins." This fact shows that she 
had not really declined in grace. She was within a 
few days of completing her seventieth year, and 
though her faculties were clear and bright as ever, 
the mind had necessarily lost some of its earlier 
vigor. No longer capable of those long-sustained 
contemplations on the Divine glory and kindred 
themes, in which she had formerly found so much 
refreshment and blessing, she suspects that she has 
fallen from that spiritual converse which she then 
enjoyed. As we trace her religious course we dis- 
cover no evidences of any decline. The stream of 
her inner life — ever deepening, ever widening — flowed 
clear and steady from the beginning, and became 
deepest, calmest, widest as it approached the broad 
ocean of the eternal future. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 313 

These records of Mrs. Wesley's spiritual life will 
probably dissipate the common notion* that, notwith- 
standing her deep conscientiousness and punctual 
attention to all religious duties, she did not expe- 
rience the inward consolations of the Gospel till late 
in life. The idea no doubt rests upon a passage in 
John Wesley's Journal. Under the date of Septem- 
ber 3, 1739, he says: "I talked largely with my 
mother, who told me that, till a short time since, 
she had scarce heard such a thing mentioned as 
the having forgiveness of sins now, or God's Spirit 
bearing witness with our spirit; much less did she 
believe that this was the common privilege of all 
believers. ' Therefore,' said she, ' I never durst ask 
for it myself.' " She then stated how she felt this 
assurance a short time before, while receiving the 
sacramental cup, and declared that her father enjoyed 
the same blessing uninterruptedly for forty years; 
but, as he never preached it to others, she supposed 
he also looked upon it as the peculiar blessing of a 
few, and not common to all believers. These obscure 
views no doubt held back Mrs. Wesley from that 
fullness of conscious joy which she might other- 
wise have attained; but to fix upon this moment of 
clearer revelation on a particular spiritual privilege 
as her conversion, and regard her previous religious 
condition as one of "legal night," without any in- 
ward experience of divine things, is not warranted 
by the facts of the case. She had long before laid 

her burden at the foot of the Cross. God had long 

27 



314 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

been the supreme object of her love, and for many 
years she had walked in all his commandments and 
ordinances blameless. " And though," says Doctor 
Clarke, " she lived in a time when the spiritual 
privileges of the people of God were not so clearly 
defined nor so well understood as they are at present, 
yet she was not without large communications of the 
Divine Spirit, heavenly light, and heavenly ardors, 
which often caused her to sit, 'like cherub bright, 
some moments on a throne of love.' She had the 
faith of God's elect; she acknowledged the truth 
which is according to godliness. Her spirit and life 
were conformed to the truth; and she was not, as 
she could not be, without the favor and approbation 
of God." 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 315 



XIII. 

RELATION TO METHODISM. 

The Wesleys' mother was the mother of Methodism in a religious 
and moral sense ; for her courage, her submissiveness to authority — 
the high tone of her mind, its independence, and its self-control — 
the warmth of her devotional feelings, and the practical direction 
given to them — came up, and were visibly repeated in the character 
and conduct of her sons. — Isaac Taylor. 

Methodism, which, after an existence of a cen- 
tury and a quarter, now numbers so many thousands 
among its ministry and membership in every part of 
the world, arose into being at a most critical period 
in the religious history of our country. Profligacy 
and vice every-where prevailed, and, according to 
the essayists, the moral virtues of the nation were 
at their last gasp. " There is no such thing as 
religion in England," wrote Montesquieu, who visited 
this country in 1730; "if any one speaks about 
religion every body begins to laugh." The Churches 
of the land resembled, to a great extent, the valley 
of vision — full of dry bones. "Behold, there were 
very many in the open valley, and, lo, they were 
very dry." Prelates of the Establishment, and lead- 
ing ministers among the Dissenting communities, 
were lamenting that "religion was dying in the 



316 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

world;" that Christianity was openly proclaimed to 
be nothing more than a cunningly-devised fable, 
and no longer worthy of serious regard or inquiry. 
"The Anglican Church," says a living writer, "had 
become an ecclesiastical system, under which the 
people of England had lapsed into heathenism, or 
a state hardly to be distinguished from it;" and 
"Non- Conformity was rapidly in course to be found 
no where but in books." The spirit of evangelistic 
enterprise had died out, and the little experimental 
religion which remained was mostly confined within 
the limits of a few godly households.* 

This melancholy spiritual desolation was the result 
of a series of causes which had been powerfully 
operating for three-quarters of a century; and the 
Methodism which woke up the nation from its deep 
moral slumber, and quickened it into newness of life, 
was not the hasty creation of a day. During two or 
three antecedent generations there had been at work 
powerful influences in the ancestry of its appointed 
founders, which, in the light of after- times, look 
like providential preparations in connection with the 
appointed agents, when they should appear on the 
field of action to fulfill their marvelous mission. 
"It must not be regarded as a refinement when it 
is affirmed that the special characteristics of religious 

* Those who wish to enter more fully into this subject, at which 
we can only give this passing glance,- and to examine the necessary 
authorities, will find it comprehensively summarized in the first 
chapter of Doctor George Smith's very valuable " History of Wes- 
leyan Methodism." 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 317 

communities — that is to say, those properties that 
visibly mark such bodies — do go down to the second, 
third, and fourth generation, in the instance of fami- 
lies that have walked forth from the inclosure within 
which they were born and bred. Family peculiarities 
may have disappeared — the physical type, perhaps, 
has been lost — and yet a note of the religious pedi- 
gree survives, and reappears in grandchildren, sons, 
and daughters."* 

Whatever may be thought of this theory as a 
whole, it certainly has a remarkable application to 
the case before us. Who can contemplate the his- 
tory of John Westley of Whitchurch without being 
struck with obvious coincidences between many of 
his principles and courses of action and those of the 
illustrious grandson who bore his name? In a long 
conversation with the Bishop of Bristol, distinguished 
by manly sense, unaffected piety, and extensive re- 
ligious knowledge, he holds that the grand qualifica- 
tions for the ministry are "gifts and graces;" that 
he himself was "called to the work of the ministry, 
though not to the office;" that the inward call of 
God, and " the approval of judicious able Christians, 
ministers, and others," were a sufficient warrant for 
his preaching, without any formal ordination either by 
prelates or presbyters; that it was lawful to preach 
wherever the people invited him to do so; and that 
the best vindication of his Divine call to the sacred 
w T ork was the "conversion of several souls to the 

* Taylor's "Wesley and Methodism." 



318 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

power of godliness from ignorance and profaneness." 
These successes attended him in every place where 
he exercised his gifts — "at Radipole, Melcombe, 
Turnwood, Whitchurch, and at sea." "If it please 
your lordship/' he nobly declares, "to lay down any 
evidences of godliness agreeing with the Scriptures, 
and they be not found in those persons intended, 
I am content to be discharged from my ministry. 
I will stand or fall by the issue thereof." 

Here, then, we find an unordained evangelist, a 
lay helper, an itinerant preacher, and a beautiful 
preshadowing of the principles more extensively 
embodied in the early Methodist preachers whom 
Wesley associated with himself in the glorious re- 
vival of the eighteenth century. Like the Dorset- 
shire evangelist, they performed the "work" of the 
ministry rather than exercised its " office." They 
went out and preached every-where; but neither 
governed the Churches nor administered the sacra- 
ments. Their qualifications were "grace and gifts" 
rather than extensive erudition or high mental cul- 
ture. Their authority was the inward call of God, 
the moving of the Holy Ghost, and the " approval 
of good and able Christians," without any formal 
ordination; and the prime test of the divinity of 
their mission was "fruit" in the conversion of sinners 
and the edification of them that believe. "They went 
forth and preached every-where, the Lord working 
with them, and confirming the Word with signs fol- 
lowing." It is necessary to observe, however, that 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 319 

this initiatory state of things in reference to the 
status of Wesleyan ministers has long since passed 
away. Methodism now claims for her pastorate the 
call to the "office" as well as to the -'work'' of the 
ministry, and for her societies all the rights and 
privileges of a distinct and Scriptural Church of the 
Lord Jesus Christ. 

There is also another link in this ancestral chain 
which is not usually adverted to in this connection. 
About 1667, under the earnest preaching of one or 
two London clergyman, several young men were 
brought "to a very affecting sense of their sins, 
and began to apply themselves in a very serious 
way to religious thoughts and purposes/'* Their 
ministers advised them to hold weekly meetings 
among themselves, and rules were drawn up for the 
better regulation of their assemblies. They were to 
avoid all controversy, and to converse only on such 
subjects as conduced to practical holiness. They 
were to promote schools, and the catechising of 
"young and ignorant persons in their respective 
families."'' They contributed weekly for the relief 
of the poor, and appointed stewards to receive and 
distribute then- charities. Encouraged by a few dig- 
nitaries of the Church and several clergymen, these 
societies multiplied and grew till in a few years there 
were forty in London, a considerable number in the 
provinces, and nine in L*eland. 

Now, here we have the very germ and pattern of 
those societies which John Wesley formed as the 



320 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

basis of the Methodist economy. In his early days 
their growth had been checked, and only very few 
of them existed. He did not overlook them, however, 
but warmly admired and adopted them. Even in 
Georgia he advised the more serious of his flock 
" to form themselves into a little society, and to 
meet once or twice a week, in order to reprove, 
instruct, and exhort one another." And when he 
returned to London he was a constant visitor at 
these little religious assemblies; and in one of them 
he felt his heart "strangely warmed," and obtained 
the blessing of conscious pardon. 

This readiness to look favorably upon what were 
unquestionably regarded by the Churchmen of his 
times as unjustifiable irregularities was only following 
in his father's steps. The rector of Epworth, High- 
Churchman as he is commonly represented to be, had 
published a noble defense of the religious societies, 
in which he boldly pleaded for their formation in 
every parish. He would undoubtedly have established 
them among his own parishioners had his Diocesan 
given his consent. "Now, if this religious discourse 
be lawful and commendable where it is accidental, 
or among a few persons only, I would fain know 
how it should come to be otherwise when it is stated 
and regulated, and among a greater number? Is it 
any more conventicle than any other meetings? Is 
there any law that it offends against? Is it any 
greater crime to meet and sing psalms together than 
to sing profane songs, or waste hours in impertinent 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 321 

chat or drinking? Indeed, one would almost wonder 
how a design of this nature should come to have any 
enemies. Nor can I see any reason why good men 
should be discouraged from joining in it by those 
hard words — faction, singularity, and the like — when 
all possible care is taken to give no just offense in 
the management of it. The design of these societies, 
as I am satisfied by considering the first founder 
and the encouragers of them, and their rules as 
well as practice, is by no means to gather Churches 
out of other Churches; to foment new schisms and 
divisions; and to make heathens of all the rest of 
their Christian brethren; which would be as inde- 
fensible in itself as dangerous and fatal in its con- 
sequences, both to themselves and others. So far 
are they from this that they have brought back 
several to the Church who were divided from it. 
But their aim is purely and only to promote, in a 
regular manner, that which is the end of every 
Christian — the glory of God, included in the welfare 
and salvation of themselves and their neighbors. 
And if any rational method could be proposed, 
besides those they have already pitched upon, to 
guard against these possible inconveniences, there is 
no doubt but that they would embrace it. Though, 
after all, how there can be any possible occasion 
of schism, any crevice for it to creep in at, where 
nothing is done but in subordination to the lawful 
ministry and by direction from it, and where one 
of the very bonds of the society is the frequenting 



322 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

of public prayers and communions, while, on the 
other side, there is no visible private interest to 
serve, no faction to flatter or humor, I must confess 
I am not sharp-sighted enough to discern, and dare 
challenge any instance of a schism any where occa- 
sioned, in such circumstances, ever since the birth 
of Christianity." 

Does not this vigorous apology remind us of those 
noble defenses of the United Societies which, in the 
early years of Methodism, John Wesley was fre- 
quently called upon to make? Had those Societies 
been in existence at the time, the rector's pen could 
not more eloquently have pleaded their cause. And 
when his sons commenced their career of spiritual 
and philanthropic toil at Oxford, they were cheered 
on amid the scorn and contempt of the whole Uni- 
versity by their father's countenance and advice. 
" For my part," he wrote, " on the present view of 
your actions and designs, my daily prayers are, that 
God would keep you humble ; and then I am sure 
that if you continue to suffer for righteousness' sake, 
though it be but in a lower degree, the Spirit of God 
and of glory shall in some good measure rest upon 
you. And you can not but feel such a satisfaction 
in your own minds as you would not part with for all 
the world. Be never weary of well-doing ; never 
look back, for you know the prize and the crown are 
before you ; though I can scarce think so meanly of 
you, as that you should be discouraged with the 
i crackling of thorns under a pot.' Be not high- 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 323 

minded, but fear. Preserve an equal temper of mind 
under whatever treatment you meet with, from a not 
very just or well-natured world. Bear no more sail 
than is necessary, but steer steady. The less you 
value yourselves for these unfashionable duties — as 
there is no such thing as works of supererogation — 
the more all good and wise men will value you, if 
they see your works are all of a piece ; or, which is 
infinitely more, He, by whom actions and intentions 
are weighed, will both accept, esteem, and reward 
you. I hear my son John has the honor of being 
styled < the Father of the Holy Club.' If it be so, I 
am sure I must be the grandfather of it ; and I need 
not say, that I had rather any of my sons should be 
so dignified and distinguished than to have the title 
of < His Holiness.' " 

Account for it how we may, these facts clearly 
prove that " a note of the religious pedigree " sur- 
vived and reappeared in the rector of Epworth, the 
representative of the third or fourth generation of the 
Wesley Family. But is there any indication that 
this " religious pedigree," so observable in the pater- 
nal ancestry, appeared likewise in the mother of the 
Founder of Methodism ? No one can study the life 
of John Wesley without observing that maternal in- 
fluence exerted over him an all but sovereign control. 
His mental perplexities, his religious doubts and emo- 
tions were all eagerly submitted to the judgment and 
decision of his mother, who was every way competent 
to be his religious adviser. And on her part there 



324 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

seems to have been a solicitude for his religious wel- 
fare greater, if possible, than that which she felt for 
any other of her children. His wonderful rescue 
from the burning pile of the parsonage appears to 
have impressed her with the thought, that God had 
delivered him from so great a death for a life of more 
than common usefulness, and therefore she must meet 
with corresponding earnestness these additional claims. 

There is a precious meditation, written on the even- 
ing of the seventeenth of May, 1711, when John was 
not quite eight years old, in which this feeling 
strongly manifests itself. " What shall I render unto 
the Lord for his mercies ? The little unworthy praise 
that I can offer is so mean and contemptible an offer- 
ing, that I am even ashamed to tender it. But, Lord, 
accept it for the sake of Christ, and pardon the de- 
ficiency of the sacrifice. I would offer thee myself, 
and all that thou hast given me ; and I would re- 
solve — give me grace to do it ! — that the residue 
of my life shall be all devoted to thy service. And 
I do intend to be more particularly careful of the 
soul of this child, that thou hast so mercifully pro- 
vided for, than ever I have been; that I may en- 
deavor to instill into his mind the principles of thy 
true religion and virtue. Lord, give me grace to do 
it sincerely and prudently ; and bless my attempts 
with good success !" 

This maternal influence is very discernible in John 
Wesley's views and movements in after-life. When 
the time arrived for deciding his future course, it was 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 325 

a grave question with him whether he should enter 
into Holy Orders. He distrusted his motives, and his 
most serious apprehensions were awakened. As the 
dread responsibilities rose up before his mind, he 
quailed at their weight, and hesitated to proceed. 
With his usual frankness, he consulted his parents. 
His father, not liking what he calls " a callow cler- 
gyman," laid out for him a long course of study, 
and concluded, " By all this you see I am not for 
your going overhastily into Orders." 

The tone of his mother's reply was very different. 
" I think the sooner you are a deacon the better, be- 
cause it may be an inducement to greater application 
in the study of practical divinity, which, of all other 
studies, I humbly conceive to be the best for candi- 
dates for Orders The alteration of your tem- 
per has occasioned me much speculation. I, who am 
apt to be sanguine, hope it may proceed from the 
operations of God's Holy Spirit, that, by taking off 
your relish for earthly enjoyments, he may prepare 
and dispose your mind for a more serious and close 
application to things of a more sublime and spiritual 
nature. If it be so, happy are you if you cherish 
those dispositions ! And now, in good earnest, re- 
solve to make religion the business of your life ; for, 
after all, that is the one thing that, strictly speaking, 
is necessary. All things besides are comparatively 
little to the purposes of life. I heartily wish you 
would now enter upon a strict examination of your- 
self, that you may know whether you have a reason- 



326 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

able hope of salvation by Jesus Christ. If you have, 
the satisfaction of knowing it will abundantly reward 
your pains. If you have not, you will find a more 
reasonable occasion for tears than can be met with 
in a tragedy. This matter demands great consider- 
ation by all ; but especially by those designed for the 
ministry; who ought, above all things, to make 
their own calling and election sure, lest, after they 
have preached to others, they themselves should be 
cast away." 

These judicious and weighty counsels were decisive. 
John Wesley made up his mind to enter the ministry ; 
gave himself earnestly to the study of divinity ; and 
pressed his father to consent to his immediate ordi- 
nation. What would have been the consequences to 
the Church and the world had he refused to receive 
Orders, and spent his life in some other calling? 
And who can tell how much his decision was influ- 
enced by his mother's wise advice ? Had the father's 
counsels for delay been followed, or not counteracted 
by the influence and reasoning of his mother, the 
Church might never have numbered him among her 
ministerial sons, nor the world so largely and per- 
manently benefited by his labors. 

The same influence had much to do in the forma- 
tion and settlement of his early theological opinions. 
When he fairly commenced the study of divinity he 
made constant references to his mother, and solicited 
her explanations. The letters which passed between 
them in connection with these important inquiries 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 327 

range over a great variety of topics, and comprehend 
discussions on some of the most difficult questions in 
theology. One example, however, must suffice. It 
is well known that John Wesley was the chief instru- 
ment in the revival and extension of the doctrines 
of an evangelical Arminianism, as opposed in many 
important points to a rigid Calvinism. In his earlier 
theological studies, however, he was much perplexed 
about the vexed question of predestination. He fully 
communicated his doubts to his mother, stating that 
he believed it to be contrary both to reason and 
Scripture. Mrs. Wesley concurred in his views, and 
expressed her own sentiments in the following pas- 
sages : " I have often wondered that men should be 
so vain as to amuse themselves by searching into the 
decrees of God, which no human wit can fathom; 
and do not rather employ their time and powers in 
working out their salvation, and making their own 
calling and election sure. Such studies tend more to 
confound than inform the understanding, and young 
people had best let them alone. But since I find you 
have some scruples concerning our article of predes- 
tination, I will tell you my thoughts of the matter ; 
and, if they satisfy not, you may desire your father's 
direction, who is surely better qualified for a casuist 
than me. The doctrine of predestination, as main- 
tained by rigid Calvinists, is very shocking, and ought 
utterly to be abhorred, because it charges the most 
holy God with being the author of sin. And I think 
you reason very well and justly against it; for it is 



328 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

certainly inconsistent with the justice and goodness 
of God to lay any man under either a physical or 
moral necessity of committing sin, and then punish 
him for doing it. Far be this from the Lord ! Shall 
not the Judge of all the earth do right ? I do firmly 
believe that God, from all eternity, hath elected some 
to everlasting life ; but then I humbly conceive that 
this election is founded in his foreknowledge, accord- 
ing to that in the eighth of Romans : i Whom he did 
foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed 
to the image of his Son ; moreover, whom he did 
predestinate, them he also called; and whom he 
called, them he also justified; and whom he justified, 
them he also glorified.' " 

After a brief running exposition of what she re- 
garded as the meaning of this passage she continues : 
" This is the sum of what I believe concerning pre- 
destination, which I think is agreeable to the analogy 
of faith, since it does in no wise derogate from the 
glory of God's free grace, nor impair the liberty of 
man. Nor can it with more reason be supposed 
that the prescience of God is the cause that so 
many finally perish, than that our knowing the sun 
will rise to-morrow is the cause of its rising." And 
once more she writes: "I can not recollect the pas- 
sages you mention ; but, believing you do the author, 
I positively aver that he is extremely in the wrong 
in that impious, not to say blasphemous, assertion, 
that God by an irresistible decree hath determined 
any man to be miserable, even in this life. His 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 329 

intentions, as himself, are holy, and just, and good ; 
and all the miseries incident to men, here or here- 
after, spring from themselves." These, in substance, 
were the same views on this long- controverted ques- 
tion which John Wesley himself adopted and de- 
fended. 

The sermons of the Founder of Methodism are 
distinguished by simplicity of style, freedom from all 
unnecessary niceties of distinctions, and directness 
of appeal ; and it is highly probable that his mother's 
sound advice largely contributed to these admirable 
qualities of his preaching. No sooner was he or- 
dained than he sought and received her counsel on 
this most important subject. " Suffer now a word 
of advice," she writes. " However curious you may 
be in searching into the nature, or in distinguishing 
the properties, of the passions or virtues of human 
kind, for your own private satisfaction, be very cau- 
tious in giving nice distinctions in public assemblies ; 
for it does not answer the true end of preaching, 
which is to mend men's lives, and not fill their heads 
with unprofitable speculations. And after all that 
can be said, every affection of the soul is better 
known by experience than any description that can 
be given of it. An honest man will more easily ap- 
prehend what is meant by being zealous for God 
and against sin, when he hears what are the proper- 
ties and effects of true zeal, than the most accurate 
definition of its essence." 

Eight years afterward she presses upon his atten- 

28 



330 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

tion the depravity of human nature, the absolute 
necessity of a Divine Mediator, the all- sufficiency of 
the atonement, the nature of faith, and the agency 
of the Holy Spirit as the most important subjects on 
which his preaching should dwell. " Here, surely," 
she exclaims, " you may give free scope to your 
spirits ; here you may freely use your Christian lib- 
erty, and discourse without reserve of the excellency 
of the knowledge and love of Christ, as his Spirit 
gives you utterance. What, my son, did the pure 
and holy person of the Son of God pass by the fallen 
angels, who were far superior, of greater dignity, 
and of a higher order in the scale of existence, and 
choose to unite himself to the human nature? And 
shall we soften, as you call it, these glorious truths? 
Rather let us speak boldly, without fear. These 
truths ought to be frequently inculcated, and pressed 
home upon the consciences of men ; and when once 
men are affected with a sense of redeeming love, that 
sense will powerfully convince them of the vanity of 
the world, and make them esteem the honor, wealth, 
and pleasures of it as dross or dung, so that they 
may win Christ. As for moral subjects, they are 
necessary to be discoursed on ; but then I humbly 
conceive we are to speak of moral virtues as Chris- 
tians, and not like heathens. And if we would in- 
deed do honor to our Savior, we should take all fit- 
ting occasions to make men observe the essence and 
perfection of the moral virtues taught by Christ and 
his apostles, far surpassing all that was pretended to 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 331 

by the very best of the heathen philosophers. All 
their morality was defective in principle and direc- 
tion ; was intended only to regulate the outward ac- 
tions, but never reached the heart; or, at. the high- 
est, it looked no further than the temporal happiness 
of mankind. ' But moral virtues, evangelized or im- 
proved into Christian duties, have partly a view to 
promote the good of human society here, but chiefly 
to qualify the observers of them for a much more 
blessed and more endearing society hereafter.' I can 
not stay to enlarge on this vast subject; nor, in- 
deed, considering whom I write to, is it needful. Yet 
one thing I can not forbear adding, which may carry 
some weight with his admirers, and that is, the very 
wise and just reply which Mr. Locke made to one 
that desired him to draw up a system of morals. 
' Did the world,' said he, 4 want a rule, I confess 
there could be no work so necessary nor so com- 
mendable; but the Gospel contains so perfect a body 
of ethics, that Reason may be excused from the in- 
quiry, since she may find man's duty clearer and 
easier in revelation than in herself.' " 

When John Wesley became the acknowledged head 
of the Oxford Methodists, he sent to his mother an 
account of their zealous endeavors after personal 
holiness ; their efforts for the spiritual welfare of the 
prisoners and others ; and the manifold sneers and 
persecutions which they had to endure. She at once 
countenanced and encouraged him without any com- 
plaint about irregularities, or even a mild exhortation 



332 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

to caution. " I heartily join with your small Society 
in all their pious and charitable actions, which are 
intended for God's glory ; and am glad to hear that 
Mr. Clayton and Mr. Hall have met with desired 
success. May you still, in such good works, go on 
and prosper ! Though absent in body, I am present 
with you in spirit ; and daily recommend and commit 
you all to Divine Providence." 

In May, 1738, John Wesley passed through that 
important crisis of his religious life in which he was 
delivered from the spirit of bondage, and received the 
spirit of adoption. He soon became anxious to lay 
the whole case before his mother, that he might ob- 
tain her advice. Within fourteen days of that mem- 
orable night at the little Society in Aldersgate-street, 
he hastened to Salisbury, to bid her farewell before 
he departed for Germany. During this interview he 
read a paper containing a clear and succinct account 
of his own heart-struggles for true spiritual rest. It 
traced these moral conflicts from the earliest stirrings 
of religious feeling in his soul, to the hour when the 
Divine Spirit assured him of his redemption through 
the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of sins. As 
he so deeply valued his mother's judgment on all 
questions relating to experimental religion, it was no 
small satisfaction that " she greatly approved the doc- 
ument which he read, and said she heartily blessed 
God, who had brought him to so just a way of 
thinking." 

It was industriously circulated in the days of early 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 333 

Methodism, that Mrs. Wesley "lived long enough to 
deplore the extravagances of her sons." The same 
notion still lingers in some quarters ; and as it orig- 
inated in certain circumstances partly connected with 
the paper to which reference has just been made and 
bears upon Mrs. Wesley's relation to Methodism, this 
is the proper place for the examination of the entire 
question. Wesley's own account must first be quoted. 
" In the morning I came to London ; and after re- 
ceiving the Holy Communion at Islington, I had 
once more an opportunity of seeing mother, whom I 
had not seen since my. return from Germany. I can 
not but mention an odd circumstance here. I had 
read her a paper in June last year, containing a short 
account of what had passed in my own soul, till 
within a few days of that time. She greatly ap- 
proved it, and said she heartily blessed God, who 
had brought me to so just a way of thinking. While 
I was in Germany, a copy of that paper was sent, 
without my knowledge, to one of my relations. He 
sent an account of it to my mother ; whom I now 
found under strange fears concerning me, being con- 
vinced, 'by an account taken from one of my own 
papers, that I had greatly erred from the faith.' I 
could not conceive what paper that should be; but 
on inquiry, found it was the same I had read her 
myself. How hard is it to form a true judgment of 
any person or thing from the account of a prejudiced 
relater ! yea, though he be ever so honest a man ; 
for he who gave this relation was one of unquestion- 



334 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

able veracity. And yet, by his sincere account of a 
writing which lay before his eyes, was the truth so 
totally disguised, that my mother knew not the pa- 
per she had heard from end to end, nor I that I had 
myself wrote it." 

The man of " unquestionable veracity," who gave 
this " sincere account " of the document in question, 
was none other than Samuel Wesley, of Tiverton. 
And had the writing only been before his eyes, we 
doubt whether he would have formed so perverted a 
judgment as to its true meaning. Influences, of 
which John Wesley at the time was probably igno- 
rant, had been powerfully operating upon his broth- 
er's mind. Many-tongued rumor had been exceed- 
ingly busy. Only two days before Mrs. Wesley 
heard the paper with so much satisfaction, a violent 
letter had been forwarded to Samuel, declaring that 
John had " turned a wild enthusiast, or fanatic ;" 
that it would be a great charity either to " confine 
or convert him;" that he taught people to expect 
assurance of pardon through the medium of dreams 
and extraordinary visions. These accusations, skill- 
fully mixed up with a number of grotesque and spicy 
anecdotes in perfect keeping, and coming from a 
personal friend, who had shown great kindness to 
John and Charles, worked their mischievous intention 
in the eldest brother's mind. With his thoughts fully 
prepossessed by these glaring- misrepresentations, and 
having himself a strong prejudice against the doc- 
trine of assured forgiveness, who can wonder that he 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 335 

formed an incorrect judgment of his brother's own 
statement ? 

There followed a vigorous and somewhat sharp 
controversy between the brothers on the main point 
at issue, into which it is not necessary for us to 
enter. But Samuel also communicated the misrep- 
resentations to his mother. Her surprise, and alarm 
were naturally excited ; and she combated the notions 
erroneously attributed to her younger sons with great 
acuteness and moderation. A single interview would 
have dispelled all her fears. This, however, was 
probably impossible at the time, and Whitefield seems 
to have employed himself somewhat successfully in 
softening, if not entirely removing the erroneous im- 
pressions. Writing to John, he says, " Your prayer 
is heard ! This morning I visited your mother, whose 
prejudices are entirely removed, and she only longs 
to be with you in your Societies at London. Argu- 
ments from Tiverton, I believe, will now have but 
little weight. We parted with prayer. Brother Hall 
rejoiced in spirit, and so, methinks, will you and 
brother Charles." 

The impression made upon Mrs. Wesley's mind by 
this interview may be gathered from the following 
passage in a letter to Samuel, written about a month 
afterward: "You have heard, I suppose, that Mr. 
Whitefield is taking a progress through these parts 
to make a collection for a house in Georgia for or- 
phans, and such of the natives' children as they will 
part with to learn our language and religion. He 



336 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

came hither to see me, and we talked about your 
brothers. I told him I did not like their way of liv- 
ing, wished them in some place of their own, wherein 
they might regularly preach, etc. He replied, I could 
not conceive the good they did in London ; that the 
greatest part of our clergy were asleep ; and that 
there never was a greater need of itinerant preachers 
than now. Upon which a gentleman that came with 
him said that my son Charles had converted him, 
and that my sons spent all their time in doing good. 
I then asked Mr. Whitefield if my sons were not for 
making some innovations in the Church, which I 
much feared. He assured me they were so far from 
it, that they endeavored all they could to reconcile 
Dissenters to our Communion ; that my son John 
had baptized five adult Presbyterians in our own way 
on Saint Paul's day, and he believed would bring 
many to our Communion. His stay was short, so 
that I could not talk with him so much as I desired. 
He seems to be a very good man, and one who truly 
desires the salvation of mankind. God grant that 
the wisdom of the serpent may be joined to the in- 
nocence of the dove !" 

In the same letter she observes, "I have been in- 
formed that Mr. Hall intends to remove his family to 
London. He hath taken a house, and I must, if it 
please God I live, go with them, when I hope to see 
Charles ; and then I can fully speak my sentiments 
of their new notions, more than I can do by writing." 
And as soon as she had the coveted opportunity of 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 387 

" fully speaking her sentiments concerning their new 
notions," she found that their doctrines were none 
other than the very doctrines which she had herself 
approved only a few months before. All misunder- 
standing immediately vanished away. She expressed 
her devout appreciation of their teaching ; attended 
their ministry ; and sanctioned their proceedings by 
her personal presence in their religious assemblies. 
The ungenerous charge, therefore, that Mrs. Wesley 
lived long enough to deplore the extravagances of 
her sons utterly falls to the ground. 

There is one other case in which the influence of 
Mrs. Wesley over the Founder of Methodism led to 
very important results. When his soul-converting 
ministry was excluded from the churches which he so 
much loved, Wesley felt that necessity was laid upon 
him to enter every open door, and preach to gath- 
ering crowds in the fields and highways ; in the 
" conventicle," the barn, or the market-place. His 
hope was that the clergy in the various parishes 
would cheerfully shepherd the sheep which he had 
fetched from the wilderness. But in this hope he 
was disappointed. His spiritual children were re- 
garded as enthusiasts, schismatics, heretics ; and were 
often rudely repelled from the Lord's table. Seeing 
many and increasing societies springing up in Lon- 
don, Bristol, and other places, he asks, "What was 
to be done in a case of so extreme necessity?" No 
clergyman would assist him. Believing himself to be 

eminently called to the work of an evangelist, he 
29 



338 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

could not remain in any one place; and yet, in Lon- 
don especially, necessary organizations for conserv- 
ing and extending the work of God were daily grow- 
ing up. It would not do to leave classes, bands, 
prayer meetings, and schools without some respons- 
ible supervision. The only course open to him was 
to find one among the converts themselves, of upright 
heart and sound judgment in the things of God, 
and desire this more gifted brother to meet his 
fellow-disciples " as often as he could, in order to 
confirm them, as he was able, in the ways of God, 
either by reading to them, or by prayer, or by ex- 
hortation." 

Driven by this necessity, he appointed Thomas 
Maxfield, " a young man of good sense and piety," 
to watch over the Society in London. He met the 
classes and bands ; instructed and reproved as occa- 
sion required ; read the Scriptures, sometimes offer- 
ing a little exposition as he went along; and deliv- 
ered an occasional address. His abilities as a public 
speaker soon attracted attention, and he ventured at 
last to take a text and preach a sermon in the usual 
way. When Wesley heard of this he seriously dis- 
approved it, and hurried to London in no pleasant 
mood to stop the mouth of this forward and unau^ 
thorized young man. When he arrived at the Found- 
ery, his countenance gave indications of more than 
ordinary concern and displeasure. His mother in- 
quired the reason of this unusual anxiety. " Thomas 
Maxfield has turned preacher, I find," was the abrupt 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 339 

reply. Whether any long conference ensued, in which 
the arguments on both sides were carefully canvassed, 
we can not tell ; but the judgment of Mrs. Wesley 
was unmistakable. " John," said she, " you know 
what my sentiments have been. You can not sus- 
pect me of favoring readily any thing of this kind. 
But take care what you do with respect to that young 
man ; for he is as surely called of God to preach as 
you are. Examine what have been the fruits of his 
preaching, and hear him yourself." 

This counsel, too wise to be despised, and coming 
from one to whose judgment he had paid so much 
deference in many critical circumstances, and which 
had never led him astray, Wesley was not the man 
to disregard. He heard Maxfield preach, and at 
once expressed his satisfaction. " It is the Lord !" 
he exclaimed; "let him do what seemeth him good. 
What am I that I should withstand God V Thus his 
last scruples about the general employment of unor- 
dained preachers, and of those who were not Episco- 
pally inducted into the sacred office, yielded to his 
mother's argument, and fell before her calm rebuke. 
Whether the necessities of the work of God would 
have compelled Wesley to give his sanction to lay 
preaching in later years of his successful career, is 
not a question for discussion in these pages; but it 
may be accepted as a moral certainty, that the em- 
ployment of such an agency would not have been 
tolerated at so early a period but for the clear judg- 
ment and parental influence of Mrs. Wesley. To 



340 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

her, as an instrument in the Divine Hand,, are we 
indebted for an institution which has developed into a 
regular ministry, second to. none on the face of the 
earth ; and which, at the same time, recognizes an 
order of lay preachers by whose Sunday labors the 
kingdom of Christ is largely extended in the earth. 
In estimating Mrs. Wesley's relation to Method- 
ism, a reference must also be made to those remark- 
able Sabbath-evening proceedings in the Epworth 
parsonage, described in the last chapter. The serv- 
ices which she there conducted were a beautiful type 
of some of the main features in the movements of 
her sons in after years. They were auxiliary to the 
Church services, and tended to gather a number of 
people to its communion and worship. They were 
purely religious, and resulted in great spiritual good. 
" We meet not," says Mrs. Wesley, " on any worldly 
design. We banish all temporal concerns from our 
Society. None is suffered to mingle any discourse 
about them with our reading or singing. We keep 
close to the business of the day ; and as soon as it is 
over, they all go home." What was this but a glori- 
ous Methodist irregularity? Even the very name 
Society is employed to designate the little commu- 
nity. Would proceedings like these exert no influ- 
ence upon the thinkings and sentiments of John 
Wesley in after-life? He was then an intelligent, 
thoughtful, and deeply-serious boy, nine or ten years 
old. He mingled, and probably with no common in- 
terest, in these extraordinary gatherings. He saw 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 341 

and heard his own mother read prayers and sermons ; 
and with his sweet youthful voice joined in the even- 
ing hymn, which closed the happy Sabbath- worship. 
Would he ever forget these hallowed seasons? Did 
they not linger long in his retentive memory? How 
significant is the reference to them, in connection 
with the record of his mother's death : " I can not 
but further observe, that even she, as well as her 
father and grandfather, her husband and her three 
sons, had been, in her measure and degree, a preacher 
of righteousness \" 

When God made John Wesley the honored instru- 
ment in an extensive revival of religion, how often 
would these beautiful scenes present themselves to 
his mind ! Who can tell how far many of his preju- 
dices were softened or destroyed by the remembrance 
of those Sabbath evenings in the home of his youth ? 
How could he be afraid to gather religious assemblies 
in private dwellings, when his father's house, clergy- 
man as he was, had been so consecrated ? How could 
he refuse to sanction " holy women," burning with 
love to souls and possessing gifts of usefulness, tak- 
ing an active part in the Church, when he remem- 
bered that his own mother, whose judgment he so 
much revered, " had been, in her measure and degree, 
a preacher of righteousness?" 

And now, with the details and illustrations of this 
chapter fresh in his memory, we think it can not es- 
cape the notice and reflection of the reader, that 
Methodism — in some of its grand principles of econ- 



342 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

omy, its thoroughly evangelical doctrines, and the 
means by which the former were promulgated and 
the latter brought into action — " had its specific, 
healthy, though slowly-vegetating seeds in the orig- 
inal members of the Wesley family." But the pre- 
eminence in this honorable ancestry must undoubt- 
edly be given to her who arose a mother in Israel. 
Well has it been said that, as we contemplate the 
religious power which ruled the entire household in 
the Epworth parsonage, and the godly training which 
Mrs. Wesley gave to her children, we can not " es- 
cape the conclusion, that to the seed then sown in 
John Wesley's heart we should trace very much of 
the religious idea that originated the first Methodists 
in Oxford, and was subsequently elaborated in the 
United Societies." And when we note her love of 
order and practical devotion to system which enabled 
her to manage the complicated affairs of her house- 
hold so easily and so well, do we not discover the 
very same qualities in the Founder of Methodism, 
which enabled him to accomplish so much work and 
govern a large Christian community, down to the 
smallest details with such perfect ease ? Who can 
tell how much Christianity and the world, through 
the instrumentality of Methodism, are indebted to 
this noble woman ? Had her influence, so deservedly 
great, been exerted in the opposite direction, holding 
her son back instead of encouraging and guiding him 
with good discretion, who can imagine the conse- 
quences which would have followed ? 



RELATION TO METHODISM. 343 

The name of Susanna Wesley has long been had 
in reverence among the spiritual children of her sons ; 
and we hope that our loving task, in endeavoring to 
place on record an honest and truthful impression of 
her character and influence, will awaken in all the 
Churches of Methodism earnest gratitude to God for 
the mother of the Wesleys ; " the warmth of whose 
devotional feelings and the practical direction given 
to them came up, and were visibly repeated in the 
character and conduct of her sons." 



344 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 

Her house 
Was ordered well, her children taught the way 
Of life, who, rising up in honor, called 
Her blessed. Pollok. 

" I am obliged to you," writes young Samuel Wes- 
ley to his brother John, in 1727, "for the beginning 
of the portrait of our family. How I may judge 
when I see the whole, though I may guess nearly 
within myself, I can not positively affirm to you. 
There is, I think, not above one particular in all the 
character which you have drawn at length that needs 
further explanation." This passage indicates that 
John Wesley had formed the intention of sketching 
the character of each member of the Ep worth family. 
Had he completed the task, which he had evidently 
commenced, and had the document been preserved, 
the personal history of the individuals forming that 
interesting circle, as well as their dispositions and 
habits, would have been free from the obscurity by 
which so many of them are now surrounded. If, 
however, all the necessary material were within reach, 
the limits of a single chapter would not allow any 
minute details. Yet, as the history of the parents 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 345 

of this interesting family has been somewhat fully 
related in the previous pages, the following brief 
sketches of those of Mrs. Wesley's children who 
grew up to maturity may possibly gratify the reader, 
and, as a sort of supplement, give a completeness to 
the volume which it would not otherwise possess. 
The biographies of the sons have been written at 
length, and are easily accessible ; but concerning 
some of the daughters the following records are 
probably the most ample which have yet been 
published. 

Taking them in chronological order, Samuel first 
claims attention. He was born in London on the 
10th of February, 1690. The incidents of his child- 
hood, beyond those already recorded, were few and 
unimportant. He enjoyed one advantage, if so it 
may be called, above the rest of the family, in the 
services of a tutor. "Your old schoolmaster, John 
Holland, whose kindness you wear on your knuckles," 
writes his father in characteristic style, " was making 
homeward about a month or six weeks since, and got 
within ten or a dozen miles of Epworth, where he fell 
sick out of »rage or despair. He was taken home in 
a common cart, and has been almost mad ever since. 
Peter Foster, the Anabaptist preacher, gave him two- 
pence to buy him some brandy, and thought he was 
very generous. His mother fell a cursing God when 
she saw him. She has just been with me to beg the 
assistance of the parish for him. What think you 
of this example?" This poor dissipated man was a 



346 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

young clergyman. His father had given him an 
expensive education, "in hopes he would live to 
help his sister and brothers." He was dismissed 
from thirteen situations " for his wickedness and 
lewdness." Many times he pawned his gown and 
clothes in order to gratify his worst passions. He 
ruined his father, who was committed to Lincoln 
Castle for debt, without any hope of release, and 
finally brought himself to the awful end which the 
rector so graphically describes. 

How long young Samuel continued under the 
tuition of this pedagogue, or what benefit he derived 
from it, is not known. Early in 1704 he was sent 
to Westminster; and were we writing his biography, 
instead of attempting the briefest summary of his 
personal history, we should describe his good prog- 
ress in all knowledge at that ancient and celebrated 
school; his sore trouble at Bishop Sprat selecting 
him, "hoarse and purblind" as he was, from among 
all the pupils "to read him books at night;" and 
how, after his election to Christ Church, Oxford, 
he threw himself into the Whistonian controversy 
on the "Ignatian Epistles;" and also, by his solid 
attainments and the productions of his ready pen, 
became distinguished among the wits and scholars 
of the University. Then would follow his intimacy 
with Pope, Addison, Swift, and Prior; his strong 
love for the wily and clever Atterbury, whom he 
regarded as the victim of an unrighteous persecution, 
but whose real character he never divined; and his 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 347 

friendship with Lord Oxford, whose liveried servants 
fleeced him by their clamorous demands for gratuities 
till he was compelled to compound with them for a 
definite sum " once a month, and no more." We 
should pass in review his return to the old haunts 
of Westminster, where he remained twenty years 
as one of the ushers, and was refused the second 
mastership for his vigorous lampoons upon some of 
the leading Whigs of the day ; his happy marriage 
with the daughter of John Berry, that good parish 
priest of Watton ; the active part he took in found- 
ing the first Infirmary in Westminster, now Saint 
George's Hospital, Hyde Park Corner; his removal 
to Tiverton, where he proved himself a model teacher 
of youth, extended the fame of the grammar school 
through all the west of England, and lived in great 
domestic happiness and comparative competency; his 
deep interest and active liberality in connection with 
the formation of the Georgian colony; and his able 
controversy with his brother John on the doctrine 
of assurance. 

For these and other details reference must be had 
to the memoirs prefixed to his collected poems. The 
epitaph on his tomb in Tiverton church-yard describes 
him as a man of uncommon wit and learning, benevo- 
lent temper, simple manners, deservedly esteemed and 
beloved by all ; an excellent preacher, whose best 
sermon was the constant example of an edifying life; 
a follower of his blessed Master's example in doing 
good; of such scrupulous integrity that he declined 



348 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

occasions of advancement in the world through fear 
of being involved in dangerous compliances, and 
avoided the usual ways to preferment as studiously 
as many others seek them. After a life spent in 
the laborious employment of teaching youth, he re- 
signed his soul to God in the forty-ninth year of 
his age. 

We have no sympathy with this amiable man's 
High-Church principles, which he sometimes pushed 
to unwarrantable extremes. His intense dislike to 
every thing extemporaneous in public or social wor- 
ship led him to scatter, with liberal hand, his keenest 
sarcasms upon those who, to use his own words in 
one of his satires, regarded forms of prayer as 

"At best a crutch the weak to aid, 
A cumbrance to the strong." 

When his brothers broke through many of the 
old restraints, in order more effectually to minister 
the Gospel of God to the perishing masses, and 
promote a great national reformation as well as a 
glorious revival of religion, he passed some harsh 
criticisms upon their proceedings, and besought them 
to return to the old paths. He declared that he 
would much rather see them picking straws in the 
University than preaching in the area of Moorfields. 
Yet with him religion had always been a matter of 
principle. He lashed the libertines of his age, and 
boldly stood forth to vindicate Christianity against 
the infidel blasphemies of Hobbes and his followers 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 349 

Though, like many other divines of his time, he 
controverted the doctrine of the Holy Spirit's direct 
attestation to the believer's adoption into the family 
of God, he had a reverent faith in the doctrines of 
atonement, justification, and holiness. As he neared 
the world of unclouded light the mist of misappre- 
hension melted away, and several days before he 
went hence God had given him a calm and full 
assurance of his interest in Christ. 

He gave himself up so thoroughly to his scholastic 
profession that a single volume of poems, written as a 
pleasant recreation rather than a serious employment, 
is the only remaining fruit of his pen. The volume 
contains many beautiful hymns, some of which are 
constantly sung in the public worship of various 
denominations, and a few lofty meditations upon 
religious themes. The majority of the compositions, 
however, belong to the realms of wit and humor. 
Notwithstanding an occasional coarseness, which of- 
fends against the more refined taste of later times, 
they display the true poetic genius, abounding in 
vivid fancies and elegant classic allusions. How 
beautiful and tender is the following epitaph on an 
infant : 

" Beneath a sleeping infant lies ; 

To earth whose ashes lent 
More glorious shall hereafter rise, 

Though not more innocent. 
When the archangel's trump shall blow, 

And souls and bodies join, 
What crowds will wish their lives below 

Had been as short as thine 1" 



350 THE MOTHER OP THE WESLEYS. 

And what can exceed the keen sarcasm of his 
lines on the erection of a monument to the author 
of Hudibras, in Westminster Abbey? 

" While Butler — needy wretch ! — was yet alive, 
No generous patron would a dinner give ; 
See him, when starved to death and turn'd to dust, 
Presented with a monumental bust ! 
The Poet's fate is here in emblem shown — 
He asked for bread and he received a stone." 

We could linger long on the beautiful features 
displayed in the character of this most amiable man. 
Notwithstanding our strong love for his brother John 
as the founder of Methodism, and his brother Charles 
as the sweet hymnist of our Churches, we believe 
that in the fineness of his natural temper, devout 
filial affection, and brotherly love — in self-denying 
liberality to his parents and the rest of his family, 
for whom he sometimes literally emptied his own 
purse — and in solid, scholarly attainments — Samuel 
was the first of those three noble sons which Susanna 
Wesley gave to the Church and the world. 

All the published sketches of Emilia, the first 
of the Wesley daughters, are meager and incorrect. 
"The life of such a woman," says Clarke, "must 
have furnished innumerable anecdotes of the most 
instructive kind. But, alas ! for want of a collector, 
they have been borne away long since on the gale 
that never returns, and buried in the viewless regions 
of endless oblivion." Happily, we have gathered up 
a few of the anecdotes, and are enabled to present a 



SOXS AND DAUGHTERS. 351 

more extended and accurate notice of this remarkable 
woman. 

Baptized at South Ormsby in the middle of Janu- 
ary, 1692, she was probably born in December of 
the previous year. Her parents bestowed special at- 
tention upon her early education ; and under her 
father's tuition she is reported to have acquired a 
good knowledge of the classic tongues. When the 
disastrous fire consumed the parsonage and scattered 
the household among different families, Emilia had the 
privilege of being her mother's only companion for an 
entire year. She worked hard all day; read some 
pleasant book at night; and, though she had few di- 
versions and was never suffered to wander abroad, she 
was contented and happy. She grew up a woman of 
"outward majesty and grace," in whom "virtue, form, 
and wit " were combined in *" perfect harmony." Her 
intellectual powers — 

" By reason polished, and by arts refined " — 

were so strong, well-balanced, and highly-cultivated, 
that she may be regarded as a thoroughly-intellectual 
and educated woman. She had an exquisite taste for 
the beautiful, especially in poetry and music. Her 
brother John — no mean judge on such a subject — 
pronounced her the best reader of Milton he had ever 
heard; and Hetty, who devoutly loved her, sang the 
praises of her personal beauty and mental and moral 
excellence, in soft and flowing numbers, but with a 
true sisterly obliviousness of some of the keener 



352 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

qualities of Emilia's nature. Her affections and an- 
tipathies were alike intense. Her love for her mother 
was strong as death; and she regarded her brother 
John with a passionate fondness. Though so much 
younger than herself, she selected him as her " most 
intimate companion; her counselor in difficulties," to 
whom her " heart lay open at all times." Toward 
her father, her letters exhibit an angriness of dispo- 
sition and asperity of language which can not be 
justified. There was a sharpness of temper and im- 
patience of opposition which vividly reflect some of 
the rector's most prominent infirmities. She also 
possessed his resolute energy, indomitable persever- 
ance, and imperious self-will, combined with a courage 
which did honor to her sex. 

For many years she nobly took her share of the 
common family trials, atld relieved her mother of 
many household cares. But at length, disappointed 
in love, chafed by straitened circumstances, "pro- 
voked at all her relations, and wishing to be out of 
their sight," her high spirit could brook it no longer. 
She entered a boarding-school at Lincoln, and "read- 
ily fell into that way of life," though she " had never 
so much as seen one before." Well-dressed, with 
money in her pocket, and respected by all around 
her, she felt as if she had entered a new world. After 
five years' hard work and comparative happiness, the 
" school broke up," and her mother urged her to re- 
turn home and take charge -of the house at Wroote, 
the living of which had just been conferred upon her 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 353 

father, in connection with Epworth. Here she toiled 
hard for the welfare of the household, and " found her 
own clothes" till her scant savings were exhausted. 
But " in this distress," she writes, " we enjoy many- 
comforts. We have no duns, nor any of that torment- 
ing care to provide bread, which we had at Epworth. 
In short, could I lay aside all thought of the future, 
and could be content without three things — money, 
liberty, and clothes — I might live very comfortably." 
After three or four years, probably in 1728, Emilia 
again left home and went to Mrs. Taylor's boarding- 
school, at Lincoln.* By this prim schoolmistress she 
was unkindly treated, and had the hardest possible 
work to obtain any portion of her small salary. She, 
therefore, quitted this establishment at Christmas, 
1730, and resolved to commence a school at Gains- 
borough. The project was laid before her brothers, 
who, after a little hesitation, consented to it, and gave 
her some trifling help. According to her own account 
she had a fairer prospect at Gainsborough than she 
originally expected ; but was " much afraid of being 
dipped in debt at first. But," she adds, " God's will 

* Here she was visited by her brothers, on their return from Ep- 
worth to Oxford, in 1729. Her lively letter to John after their de- 
parture gives us the following genuine specimen of boarding-school 
gossip and criticism : " Pray tell brother Charles, Mrs. Taylor gives 
her service to him, not excluding you ; and orders me to tell him that 
her daughter Peggy has had the toothache ever since he went away. 
Miss Kitty is by me, and says he is a saucy cur, and she will turn him 
off because he never went to see her at Gainsborough. Mrs. Taylor 
desires him, the next time he is here, to let his eyelids fall a little 
lower, which she thinks will become him better than his staring." 
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SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 355 

John, to whose opinion she always paid great defer- 
ence, to argue the impropriety of such an alliance, 
and entreat her not to receive his addresses. She 
wavered for a while, and then " chance furnished her 
with sufficient matter to turn the scale," which her 
brother had previously brought to an equality. Her 
lover's Whiggish principles were far more provoking 
to her than his Quakerism. One morning they dis- 
cussed the University of Oxford, Lord Clarendon, and 
the Stuarts, whom she defended with all the energy 
of her nature. The controversy waxed hot, and lasted 
about two hours, when they parted in a most unenvi- 
able temper. " I was thoroughly provoked at him for 
contradicting me so violently," she writes ; " it being, 
as you know, my avowed doctrine that an unmarried 
woman can never be wrong in any conversation with 
a bachelor." The engagement was broken off, and 
poor Emilia moralizes after the following fashion: 
" When, after a variety of ill fortune, I seemed settled 
here with an excellent physician, ... a companion 
and friend to whom I could speak freely at all times, 
and, must I add too, the most passionate lover, what 
ails my fortune now ? Why, he is a Quaker, and my 
own brother, for whom I have the tenderest regard, 
he whom I never willfully disobeyed or grieved, 
presses it on me as a strict duty to part with this 
faithful friend, this delightful companion; and I have 
done it, it is true. But now what is there left in life 
worth valuing? Truly not much; and if I should 
comply with my mother's desire, throw up my busi- 



356 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

ness here, and go home, I do not see there could be 
much in it, since my Creator seems to have decreed 
me to a state of suffering here, and always deprives 
me of what I love, or imbitters it to me. Who can 
contend with Omnipotence? No. I will strive no 
more; no more labor to make myself what they call 
easy in the world, since it is all striving against the 
stream, labor in vain, and, in the strictest sense, not 
only vanity, but vexation of spirit." 

Finally, after all these interruptions to the courses 
of her love, when she was approaching her fiftieth 
year, Emilia was married to Mr. Harper, an apothe- 
cary at Epworth. Her husband probably did not sur- 
vive the marriage many years ; and in the days of her 
widowhood she removed to London. The brother 
whom she so much loved cared earnestly for both her 
temporal and spiritual wants. Her last years were 
spent in the chapel house, West-street, Seven Dials, 
where she expired about 1771, having nearly arrived 
at her eightieth : year. Her faculties had become 
feeble, and she had " survived the major part of her 
incomparable memory;" but her benevolent disposi- 
tion lived in unabated vigor, and her somewhat warm 
and petulant temper was much softened and subdued. 
Though we have no account of her last hours, there 
are satisfactory indications that, as she advanced in 
life, real spiritual religion gained a deeper hold upon 
her heart. For many years she constantly attended 
the services at the Foundery,' where she derived much 
spiritual profit. When she removed to West- street, 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 357 

her apartments communicated with the chapel, where 
she could throw open the sashes and join in the 
public worship, without leaving her own room. In 
this comfortable retreat, "in the very bosom of the 
Church," she finished her course, and, there is every 
reason to believe, obtained her dismission to the 
Church of the first-born in heaven. 

Susanna, the second daughter, also born at South 
Ormsby, was good-natured, very facetious, and a little 
romantic, yet distinguished for the " strictest moral 
correctness." With a beautiful form and lovely coun- 
tenance, she possessed a mind strong, vivacious, and 
well-refined by education. Her mother took the 
greatest pains with her intellectual and moral train- 
ing. The elaborate exposition of the Apostles' Creed 
was written for her especial instruction, and concludes 
with this touching and earnest appeal to the girl of 
fourteen : " I can not tell whether you have ever 
seriously considered the lost and miserable condition 
you are in by nature. If you have not, it is high 
time to begin to do it ; and I shall earnestly beseech 
the Almighty to enlighten your mind, to renew and 
sanctify you by his Holy Spirit, that you may be his 
child by adoption here, and an heir of his blessed 
kingdom hereafter." 

She lived some time with her uncle Wesley in 
London; and her wealthy uncle Annesley, gathering 
his fortune among the merchandise of the Indies, 
promised to make her some handsome provision. 
But he changed his mind, and the poor girl's hopes 



358 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

were rudely dashed to the ground. Stung by this 
unkindness she committed a rash deed, which linked 
her after-life with untold misery. Her mother re- 
veals the melancholy sequel in the following passage 
to this ungenerous relative : " My second daughter, 
Sukey, a pretty woman, and worthy a better fate, 
when by your unkind letters she perceived that all, 
her hopes in you were frustrated, rashly threw her- 
self upon a man, if a man he may be called, that is 
little inferior to the apostate angels in wickedness — 
that is not only her plague, but a constant affliction 
to the family." 

The man of whom this terrible character is given 
was Richard Ellison, " a gentleman of good family, 
who had a respectable establishment" — a coarse, 
vulgar, immoral man. The rector declared him the 
"wen" of his family, whose company at the par- 
sonage, was not more pleasant to him "than all his 
physic." He treated his wife with so much harsh- 
ness that she well-nigh sank into her grave. "Poor 
Sukey !" writes her youngest sister, " she is very ill. 
People think she is going into a consumption. It 
would be well for her if she was where the wicked 
cease from troubling and the weary are at rest." 
Ellison's conduct at length rendered him intoler- 
able, and when a fire burned down their dwelling 
his wife deserted him altogether. After using all 
ordinary means to induce her return, he advertised 
his death in various newspapers. She hurried home 
to attend his funeral and look after her children; 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 359 

but, finding him still alive, she instantly returned to 
London. 

Other calamities fell upon this unfortunate man, 
which completely ruined his temporal circumstances. 
Through the " neglect of the commissioners of the 
sewers, who ought to keep the drains open," all his 
meadow-land was under water more than two years, 
and he could get no compensation. All his cows 
and all his horses, save one, died off, and he had 
" very little left to subsist on." In his extremity he 
applied to the brother of his injured wife. John 
Wesley, ever forgiving and benevolent, even to the 
evil and the unthankful, induced his friend, Ebenezer 
Blackwell, to "place the name of Richard Ellison 
among those who were to have a share of the money 
disposed of by Mr. Butterfield in charity," declaring 
that " the smallest relief could never be more season- 
able." 

It is generally believed that the separation between 
Ellison and his wife was final. But as he subse- 
quently removed to London, and became a reformed 
man, it is possible that conjugal harmony was re- 
stored. Concerning the time and circumstances of 
his much-injured wife's departure to that rest she 
had so much reason to desire we have no information. 
It probably took place in London or Bristol, where, 
surrounded by the spiritual advices and prayers of 
her brothers and the Methodist people, there is every 
reason to hope that she died in peace. And is it 
not refreshing to find the following beautiful notice 



360 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

of the final hour of her poor prodigal husband ? 
"Yesterday evening," writes Charles Wesley, on the 
11th of April, 1760, "I buried my brother Ellison. 
Sister Macdonald, whom he was always very fond of, 
prayed by him in his last moments. He told her he 
was not afraid to die, and believed God, for Christ's 
sake, had forgiven him. I felt a most solemn awe 
overwhelming me while I committed his body to the 
earth. He is gone to increase my father's joy in 
paradise, who often said every one of his children 
would be saved; for God had given them all to 
his prayers. God grant I may not be the single 
exception !" 

Mary, the third grown-up daughter, born in 1696, 
just before the family left South Ormsby, was a 
deeply-interesting character. From an injury re- 
ceived in infancy, probably through the carelessness 
of her nurse, she grew up deformed and little of 
stature. This exposed her to unseemly merriment 
from the vulgar when she walked abroad. But she 
bore the trial without resentment or complaint. How 
touching is her own allusion to this infirmity when 
comforting an afflicted friend! "I think I may say 
I have lived in a state of affliction ever since I was 
born, being the ridicule of mankind and the reproach 
of my family; yet I dare not think God deals hardly 
with me. And though he has set his mark upon me, 
I still hope my punishment won't be greater than 
I am able to bear. Since I am sensible God is no 
respecter of persons, I trust I shall be happier in 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 361 

the next life than if I enjoyed all the advantages 
of this."* 

There was, however, a merciful compensation for 
this deformity in exquisitely-beautiful features, which 
formed " a fair and legible index to a mind and dis- 
position almost angelic." Her sister Hetty writes in 
raptures about her "jetty eyes;" her "brow serene, 
benignant, clear ;" the " taintless whiteness of her 
skin," and " the roseate beauties of her lip and 
cheek." Her even temper and obliging manners 
made her the favorite of the whole family. Hetty 
regarded her as one of the most exalted of human 
beings. Her brothers constantly spoke of her with 
tenderest affection ; and, notwithstanding her de- 
formity, Providence provided for her a meet com- 
panion. A poor boy, who displayed considerable 
aptitude for learning, was brought under the notice 
of Mary's father. Transferred from the charity 
school to the study in the parsonage, he was duly 
installed as the rector's amanuensis. Four years he 
was employed in transcribing the Latin Dissertations 
on the Book of Job, and adorning them with "maps 
and figures as well as he could by the light of nature." 
These creations of the "ingenious artist" are roughly 
denounced as "the first efforts of an untutored boy;" 
the "most execrable that could be conceived: the 
worst that ever saw the sun." 

During this period of literary drudgery, however, 
the boy had the golden opportunity of receiving 

* Original Papers. 
31 



362 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

instruction from the rector in the higher branches of 
learning. Fitted for the University, he was placed 
under the tuition of John Wesley at Oxford. "If 
he goes on as he has begun," wrote his tutor, "I 
dare take upon me to say that, by the time he has 
been here four or five years, there will not be such 
a one of his standing in Lincoln College, perhaps 
not in the University of Oxford." He became " a 
valuable person, of uncommon brightness, learning, 
piety, and indefatigable industry; possessing a very 
happy memory, especially for languages, and a judg- 
ment and intelligence not inferior; always loyal to 
the king, zealous for the Church, and friendly to 
our Dissenting brethren. And for the truth of this 
character," adds his admiring patron, "I will be 
accountable to God and man." 

This was John Whitelamb, or, as Mrs. Wesley 
playfully calls him, "poor starveling Johnny." Ob- 
taining orders, he returned to Epworth and became 
the rector's curate. His proposal of marriage to 
Mary Wesley was approved by the family, and they 
were married in 1783, the bride being in her thirty- 
seventh year, and her husband several years younger. 
Whitelamb, educated by the charity of the Wesleys, 
was also dependent upon them for his clerical outfit. 
"John Whitelamb," writes Wesley to his brother 
Samuel, "wants a new gown much, and I am not 
rich enough to buy him one at present. If you are 
willing, my twenty shillings — that were — should go 
toward that. I will add ten to them, and let it lie 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 363 

till I have tried my interest with my friends to make 
up the price of a new one." His wife, of course, 
brought him no rich dower. The marriage, however, 
was the result of purest affection on both sides; and 
"better is little with the fear of the Lord than great 
treasure and trouble therewith; better is a dinner 
of herbs where love is than a stalled ox and hatred 
therewith." The rector resolved to do his utmost to 
make some provision for them. "Though I can give 
but little more with her," he writes, "yet I would 
gladly give them a little glebe land at Wroote, where 
I am sure they will not want springs of water. But 
they love the place, though I can get no body else 
to reside at it." 

In compliance with his earnest request the Lord 
Chancellor transferred the living to Whitelamb. The 
"low levels" where it was situated were frequently 
overflowed from the surrounding dikes. The fruits 
of the hard husbandry of the parishioners were 
destroyed, and distress and desolation covered the 
entire neighborhood. The income, though now con- 
siderable, was barely fifty pounds a year. This, 
however, Mary's father promised to supplement by 
an annual gift of twenty pounds. In good heart 
and hope they took possession of the parsonage, 
and prepared themselves for a life of useful toil 
among their rustic flock. 

But, alas, how transitory is all mere earthly good ! 
Within one short year the destroyer smote down the 
mother and her infant child. They were buried in 



364 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

the same grave, November 1, 1734; but no monu- 
mental tomb, or even humble stone, marks the place 
of their sepulture.* Hetty composed the following 
touching epitaph, which, though it has never been 
engraven on stone, deserves to be quoted at length: 

" If highest worth, in heauty's bloom, 
Exempted mortals from the tomb, 
We had not, round this sacred bier, 
Mourn'd the sweet babe and mother here, 
Where innocence from harm is blest, 
And the meek sufferer is at rest! 
Fierce pangs she bore without complaint, 
Till Heaven relieved the finish'd saint. 
If savage bosoms felt her woe — 
Who lived and died without a foe — 
How should I mourn, or how commend 
My tenderest, dearest, firmest friend ? 
Most pious, meek, resign'd, and chaste, 
With every social virtue graced ! 
If, reader, thou would'st prove and know 
The ease she found not here below ; 
Her bright example points the way 
To perfect bliss and endless day." 

There was great lamentation for Mary's departure. 
Her three brothers honored her memory and ex- 
pressed their grief at her loss. " When you write 
again," says Charles to Samuel, " we should be much 
obliged to you for your elegy upon sister Molly. My 

* A brass plate, fastened to the south wall inside the ancient 
church, bears the following inscription : " Near this place lieth the 
remains of Samuel Smyth, son of Barnett and Frances Smyth, late 
Rector of Panton, Lincolnshire; departed the 4th of October, 1765; 
aged fifty-five. Also, Mary Whitelamb, wife op the late Rector 
of Wroot." This is the only intimation we can discover as to the 
precise locality of her grave, which, it would seem, is within the 
church. 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 365 

brother preaches her funeral sermon at Wroote when 
he gets thither, and will still leave matter enough for 
a copy of verses. I should be glad to follow him 
either way ; but can not say which I shall be soonest 
qualified for."* The funeral sermon was preached, 
and the elegy most likely written, though we have 
not been able to discover it. 

Whitelamb's grief for her loss was so distressing 
that he determined to haste away from the scenes 
which so constantly reminded him of her. He offered 
himself to accompany the Wesleys to Georgia, but for 
some reason not known his desire was not realized. 
He settled down in his parish, and remained rector 
of his native village more than thirty years. When 
John Wesley was an outcast from many of the 
churches, Whitelamb freely offered him the use of his, 
and also attended the open-air services in Epworth 
church-yard, when Wesley preached on his father's 
tomb. "The sight of you," he wrote, "moves me 
strangely. My heart overflows with gratitude. I 
feel in a higher degree all that tenderness and yearn- 
ing of bowels with which I am affected toward every 
branch of Mr. Wesley's family. I can not refrain 
from tears when I reflect : This is the man who at 
Oxford was more than a father to me; this is he 
whom I have heard expound, or dispute publicly, or 
preach at St. Mary's, with such applause; and — 
that I should ever add ! — whom I have lately heard 
preach at Epworth on his father's tombstone." 

* Original Papers. 



366 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

He was a man of retired habits, fond of solitude, 
and punctual in the discharge of his parochial duties. 
On his way to church one Sabbath morning in the 
Summer of 1769, he was suddenly seized with his 
fatal sickness, which soon ended his life. The mem- 
ory of his kindly bearing was long cherished by his 
surviving parishioners ; but all intercourse between 
him and the "Wesleys had ceased long before his 
death. For some years he wandered from the sim- 
plicity of Christ, and seems to have been all but a 
deist. There are, however, reasons to "hope that 
his former principles regained their influence and 
ascendency; and that he died in the faith of our 
Lord Jesus Christ." 

The next, and by far the most gifted of Mrs. Wes- 
ley's daughters, is Mehetabel, or Hetty, to whose 
poetical compositions frequent allusion has already 
been made. The incidents of her life, with a careful 
analysis of her mental powers, a full estimate of her 
highly-poetic genius, and a complete collection of her 
poems, would form a volume of no ordinary interest 
and value. She was the first of the Wesleys born at 
Epworth, probably toward the close of 1697. Her 
childhood was distinguished by a gayety and merry- 
heartedness which gave her parents some concern, 
and occasionally led her into sportive inadvertences 
which offended against the rules of the household. 
There was a development of intellectual power, ready 
wit, and poetic genius beyond her years. So ready 
was she in the acquisition of knowledge that, it is 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 367 

said, she read the Greek Testament with comparative 
ease when she was only eight years old. Her father 
delighted to have her as his companion and assistant 
in the study, where she followed her more learned 
pursuits under his immediate direction. Of beautiful 
features, graceful form, and attractive demeanor, she 
had many suitors during her girlish years ; " but they 
were generally of the airy and thoughtless class, and 
ill-suited to make her either happy or useful in matri- 
monial life." And yet, had she accepted the most 
unpromising of them all, her married life, which forms 
a tale of unmitigated sadness, would probably have 
been far happier than it was. 

In April, 1725, "a gentleman in the profession of 
the law," who met Hetty at Kelstein, near Louth, 
requested her father's consent to their marriage. 
The rector frankly told him that, "being a perfect 
stranger, he must inquire of his character." Finding 
that " he was not so good as he ought to be, either 
in estate or morals," he refused his consent; and the 
events which followed brought some of the heaviest 
sorrows into the Epworth parsonage. The conduct 
of Hetty was the reverse of blameless ; and evidence 
in our possession shows that her father was justified 
in calling the man who sought her hand " an unprin- 
cipled lawyer." Hetty left her home, and was mar- 
ried — probably about the close of the same year — to 
John Wright, a plumber and glazier in London. The 
rector has been censured for urging this marriage 
upon his daughter; but our information leads us to 



368 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

doubt whether he knew any thing of Wright till after 
the marriage. It is said that Hetty's uncle gave her 
five hundred pounds, with which her husband com- 
menced business on his own account.* 

Wright, as may be supposed, was an uneducated 
man, utterly unsuited to be the life- companion of the 
refined and accomplished Hetty. At the time of the 
marriage he was probably sober and industrious ; but 
he subsequently abandoned himself to habits of 
intemperance, and association with low and vulgar 
companions. He was hard-working in business, but 
spent the greater part of his nights in public-houses, 
leaving his affectionate wife to watch through the 
weary hours for his return. She deeply felt this 
neglect, and remonstrated with him in tender and 
touching strains : 

" For though thine absence I lament 
When half the lonely night is spent; 
Yet when the watch or early morn 
Has brought me hopes of thy return, 
I oft have wiped these watchful eyes, 
Coneeal'd my cares, and curb'd my sighs, 
In spite of grief, to let thee see 
I wore an endless smile for thee." 

All her efforts failed to reclaim her husband from 
his evil ways. Her health gave way under her com- 
plicated trials ; and all traces of former beauty, " ex- 
cept a lively piercing eye," vanished from her once 
handsome countenance. Her children all died young, 

* This account is drawn from documents of unquestionable author- 
ity, for which I am indebted to Mr. G. J. Stevenson, of London. 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 369 

killed, as she declared, by the white-lead connected 
with her husband's business. Shut out from all con- 
genial society, she sank into a deep melancholy. She 
sought consolation in the strains of her tuneful lyre, 
and poured forth her sorrows in verse perfect in the 
soft flow of its rhythm, yet so tender and affecting 
that it can scarcely be read without tears. How in- 
imitable for its pathos and highly-polished numbers, 
is the following address to her dying infant, dictated 
from her trembling lips a day or two after her con- 
finement : 

" Tender softness ! infant mild ! 
Perfect, purest, brightest child 1 
Transient luster ! beauteous clay ! 
Smiling wonder of a day ! 
Ere the last convulsive start 
Rend thy unresisting heart; 
Ere the long-enduring swoon 
Weigh thy precious eyelids down ; 
Ah, regard a mother's moan, 
Anguish deeper than thy own ! 
Fairest eyes ! whose dawning light 
Late with rapture blest my sight, 
Ere your orbs extinguish'd be, 
Bend their trembling beams on me ! 
Drooping sweetness ! verdant flower 1 
Blooming, withering in an hour 1 
Ere thy gentle breast sustains 
Latest, fiercest, mortal pains, 
Hear a suppliant ! let me be 
Partner in thy destiny ! 
That whene'er the fatal cloud 
Must thy radiant temples shroud ; 
When deadly damps, impending now, 
Shall hover round thy destined brow, 
Diffusive may their influence be, 
And with the blossom blast the tree I" 



370 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

Amid her many trials, and through the kindly in- 
struction and intercourse of her brothers, Hetty was 
brought to look for her true consolation in the enjoy- 
ment of experimental religion. She sought and found 
Him who is the Comforter of the sorrowful. She 
was for some time restrained from an open profes- 
sion of her spiritual attainments by a fear that she 
would relapse into her former state ; and when that 
fear was removed, she tells us, "I was taxed with 
insincerity and hypocrisy whenever I opened my 
mouth in favor of religion, or owned how great things 
God had done for me. This discouraged me utterly, 
and prevented me making my change so public as 
my folly and vanity had formerly been. But now 
my health is gone, I can not be easy without declar- 
ing that I have long desired to know one thing — 
Jesus Christ and him crucified ; and this desire pre- 
vails above all others. And though I am cut off 
from all human help or ministry, I am not without 
assistance. Though I have no spiritual friend, nor 
ever had one yet, except perhaps once in a year or 
two, when I have seen one of my brothers, or some 
other religious persons by stealth ; yet, no thanks to 
me, I am enabled to seek Him still, and to be satis- 
fied with nothing less than God, in whose presence I 
affirm this truth. I dare not desire health ; only pa- 
tience, resignation, and the spirit of a healthful mind. 
I have been so long weak, that I know not how long 
my trial may last ; but I have a firm persuasion and 
blessed hope, though no full assurance, that, in the 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 371 

country I am going to, I shall not sing < Halleluiah !' 
and ' Holy, holy, holy !' without company, as I have 
done in this. Dear brother, I am unable to speak 
or write on these things ; I only speak my plain 
thoughts. Adieu !" 

During the following year, 1744, she went to Bris- 
tol, where she profited much by the ministry of her 
brothers and the conversation of many Christian 
friends. The restraints imposed upon her religious 
liberty by her husband were removed after her return 
to London. She became a Methodist, and no longer 
needed to seek religious communion by stealth. Her 
brothers were more frequent visitors at her house, 
and she was strengthened and comforted in her weak- 
ness and sorrow. To one who visited her not long 
before her departure, she said, " I have long ardently 
wished for death, because, you know, we Methodists 
always die in a transport of joy." But this expected 
" transport of joy" did not gladden her last hour. 
" I prayed by my sister Wright," says her brother 
Charles, " a gracious, tender, trembling soul ; a 
bruised reed, which the Lord will not break." " I 
found my sister Wright very near the haven ; yet 
still in darkness, doubts, and fears, against hope be- 
lieving in hope." A few minutes before four o'clock 
in the afternoon of March 21, 1750, while London 
was in consternation from a succession of earthquake- 
shocks, " her spirit was set at liberty. I had sweet 
fellowship with her," continues Charles, " in explain- 
ing at the chapel those solemn words, ' Thy sun shall 



372 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

no more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw 
itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, 
and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.' All 
present seemed partakers both of my sorrow and my 
joy." And five days afterward, he writes, "I fol- 
lowed her to her quiet grave, and wept with them 
that weep." In what part of the great city may 
that "quiet grave" be found? Does any stone 
mark the spot, and bear a memorial of one so lovely 
and pleasant in her life? To these questions we 
have obtained no answer; but Hetty's own epitaph 
upon herself, written under her deepest sorrows and 
before her heart was filled with the peace and joy of 
faith, deserves recording : 

" Destined while living to sustain 
An equal share of grief and pain : 
All various ills of human race 
Within this breast had once a place. 
Without complaint she learn'd to bear 
A living death, a long despair ; 
Till, hard oppress'd by adverse fate, 
O'ercharged, she sunk beneath the weight; 
And to this peaceful tomb retired, 
So much esteem'd, so long desired 1 
The painful mortal conflict 's o'er : 
A broken heart can bleed no more." 

Her husband, bad as he was, felt her loss very 
acutely. "Last Monday," writes Charles Wesley, 
"I followed our happy sister to her grave. Her 
husband is inconsolable, not knowing Jesus Christ. 
I was much affected by his saying, with tears, he 
hoped I should not forsake him now my sister was 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 373 

dead." He lived some years after her death; and 
married a second time ; but the facts of his subse- 
quent history are unknown. There is, however, a 
most affecting record of some of this poor man's last 
hours. " He is struck down by the dead-palsy," says 
Charles Wesley in one of his letters ; " longed, above 
all things, for my coming ; rejoiced and wept to see 
me. His stubborn heart was much softened by the 
approach of death. Now he is a poor sinner indeed, 
full of horror and self-condemnation, yet not without 
hope of mercy — I prayed again with my poor peni- 
tent; and left him a little more easy and composed. 
A messenger called me, between one and two, to my 
brother. He told me he was dying ; that his feet 
were dead already; was perfectly sensible; told me, 
before his wife, how he had settled his affairs — not 
enough to her advantage, I think — expressed a good 
hope and earnest desire for one, one only thing; 
wished for the voice of a trumpet, to warn all man- 
kind not to walk in the paths wherein he had walked; 
made me witness of his reconciliation with his wife ; 
and said he expected to die at four or five. I spoke 
comfortably to him of Jesus, our Atonement, our 
Peace, our Hope; prayed with free access, as we did 
last night in the Society ; saw no symptoms of imme- 
diate death, yet would not lessen his apprehensions 
of it. I preached at five to a numerous congregation, 
and prayed with confidence for a Christian, dying sin- 
ner." This is the last glimpse we have of Hetty 
Wesley's husband. Is it possible that, after all his 



374 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

wanderings in sin, he has joined her whom he so 
deeply wronged, in that better life where all is har- 
mony, happiness, and love? 

There is scarcely any information about Anne, the 
fifth daughter of Mrs. Wesley. She was born some- 
time in 1702; but there is not a single hint about her 
personal appearance, or the character of her mind. 
The only glimpses we have of her girlhood are in 
connection with the movements of old Jeffery, and 
have already come under notice. Writing to her 
brother John in September, 1724, Emilia says, " Sis- 
ter Nancy, I believe, will marry John Lambert " — an 
anticipation very soon fulfilled. 

Lambert was a land-surveyor; an intelligent and 
well-read man; and in all probability the marriage 
with Anne Wesley was in every way suitable. He 
took great pains to collect all the publications of his 
father-in-law, and illustrated them with many notes. 
The harmony of their married life was uninterrupted. 
After a few years' residence in the neighborhood of 
Epworth, they removed to Hatfield, in Hertfordshire, 
where Charles Wesley visited them twice in the Sum- 
mer of 1737. "After spending some time at Hat- 
field," he writes, August 17th, " I set out with my 
brother Lambert for London. At Epping he went 
back full of good resolutions." These " good reso- 
lutions" were not very lasting. Lambert was in 
danger of intemperance, and was easily led astray by 
this besetment. " This evening," says Charles Wes- 
ley, in November, 1738, " my brothers Lambert and 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 375 

Wright visited me. The latter has corrupted the 
former, after all the pains I have taken with him, 
and brought him back to drinking. I was full, yet 
could not speak; prayed for meekness, and then set 
before him the things he had done in the devil's name, 
toward reconverting a soul to him. He left us ab- 
ruptly. I encouraged poor John Lambert to turn 
again unto God." 

We hope these exhortations were not lost. When he 
next met with Lambert and his wife, Charles had spent 
a remarkable day. Before six in the morning he was 
in Newgate, praying with several unhappy men whose 
hour had come. He went with them to the gallows, 
where " none showed any natural terror of death ; no 
fear, no crying, no tears." Exactly at twelve " they 
were turned off," and the ardent evangelist, who had 
been the means of saving their souls from death, re- 
turned home full of confidence in their final happi- 
ness. " That hour under the gallows," he exclaims, 
" was the most blessed hour of my life." Arriving 
at his humble lodgings in Little Britain, he says, " We 
renewed our triumph. I found my brother and sister 
Lambert there, and preached to them the Gospel of 
forgiveness, which they received without opposition." 
This is the last record of Anne Wesley and her hus- 
band. We would fain hope that they received from 
the heart those holy truths which their zealous brother 
delivered unto them. 

But what shall we say of John, the next in order 
of this remarkable family ; a man of whom even Ma- 



376 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

caulay affirms that he was the instrument of "a most 
remarkable moral revolution ; whose eloquence and 
logical acuteness might have rendered him eminent 
in literature ; whose genius for government was not 
inferior to that of Richelieu, and who, whatever his 
errors may have been, devoted all his powers, in de- 
fiance of obloquy and derision, to what he sincerely 
considered the highest good of his species ?" All the 
world is familiar with the fame of John Wesley, the 
Founder of Methodism. He was born on the 17th of 
June, 1703, and several notices of his personal his- 
tory have already passed under the reader's eye. 
Resolved " to be more particularly careful of the soul 
of a child whom God had so mercifully provided for" 
by his wonderful deliverance from the burning par- 
sonage, his mother paid special attention to his early 
religious training. Her care was recompensed in the 
seriousness of his deportment; and he was permitted 
to receive the Lord's Supper when only eight years 
old. He went to the Charter-house in 1714, " where 
he was noticed for his diligence, and progress in 
learning; endured a good deal of unwelcome perse- 
cution from the older boys ; and preserved his health 
by observing his father's command to run three times 
round the grounds every day. He cherished a lasting 
affection for this venerable school, and regularly vis- 
ited it once a year to the end of his life. Elected to 
Christ Church, Oxford, at the close of his seventeenth 
year, he pursued his studies with great advantage. 
His natural temper was "gay and sprightly, with a 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 377 

turn for wit and humor ;" and he soon " appeared the 
very sensible and acute collegian ; a young fellow of 
the finest classical taste, and of the most liberal and 
manly sentiments." When elected to the Fellowship 
of Lincoln College, he was " acknowledged by all 
parties to be a man of talents, and an excellent critic 
in the learned languages." His skill in logic "was 
universally known and admired;" and he was chosen 
Greek Lecturer and Moderator of the classes only a 
few months after gaining his fellowship. 

But he soon became known as a man of more 
than ordinary religious strictness. "Blessed with 
such activity as to be always gaining ground, and 
such steadiness that he lost none," he gathered around 
him a little band of young men whose hearts the 
Lord had touched, and who recognized him as their 
nead. There was " something of authority in his 
countenance; yet he never assumed any thing above 
his companions." They visited the prisons and con- 
versed with the wretched inmates, among whom they 
had prayers twice a week, a sermon on Sunday, 
and the sScrament once a month. They visited 
poor families, gave them money, admonished them 
of their vices, and examined their children. They 
established a school, John Wesley paying the mis- 
tress and clothing most of the children out of his 
own pocket. They also taught "the children in the 
work-house, and read to the old people as they did 
to the prisoners." Amid all these activities, one 

of his companions tells us he could say much of 
32 



378 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

John Wesley's " private piety; how it was nourished 
by a continual recourse to God, and preserved by 
a strict watchfulness in beating down pride, and 
reducing the craftiness and impetuosity of nature 
to a child-like simplicity, and in a good degree 
crowned with Divine love and victory over the whole 
set of earthly passions. He thought prayer to be 
more his business than any thing else; and I have 
seen him come out of his closet with a serenity of 
countenance that was next to shining ; it discovered 
what he had been doing." 

We can only refer in the shortest possible way to 
his further toils and successes at Oxford; his mission 
to Georgia, with its manifold trials and disappoint- 
ments ; his intercourse and controversies with the 
Moravians; the blessed change in his religious expe- 
rience, which laid the foundation of his subsequent 
extensive usefulness ; the formation of the Methodist 
Societies, and the manner in which, under his fos- 
tering care and skillful government, they grew up 
into beautiful and flourishing Churches; the violent 
persecutions which he endured from brutal mobs ; 
his extraordinary itinerant journeyings, in which he 
traveled on horseback nearly five thousand miles a 
year, and preached a thousand sermons, for fifty-two 
years in succession ; and his marvelous industry, 
which enabled him, amid all these rapid movements, 
to conduct extensive correspondence, deal with cases 
of conscience, write or abridge two hundred volumes, 
keep himself abreast of the literature of the times, 



SOXS AND DAUGHTERS. 379 

maintain his classical studies, and manage, like the 
great apostle of the earliest Church, the whole 
concerns of a complicated and wide-spread Church 
organization :* declaring, meanwhile, that he had no 
time to be in a hurry; that he never felt low-spirited 
for a quarter of an hour in his life, or lost a night's 
sleep till his seventieth year; and that ten thousand 
cares sat as lightly upon his mind as ten thousand 
hairs upon his head. 

With similar brevity must be named his genial 
temper, warm but not fiery, and "radiant with re- 
ligious joyfulness;" his clear and strong intellect; 
his playful humor and sparkling wit ; his unselfish 
benevolence, bounded only by the length of his purse ; 
the wondrous power of his preaching, under which 
thousands wept and prayed in crowded meeting- 
houses, on bleak mountain-sides, or in open market- 
places ; his genuine philanthropy and patriotism ; his 
intelligent and ardent piety ; his noble catholicity 
of spirit; and his unrivaled conversational powers, 
which charmed the most cultivated minds of his day, 
made him the ever-welcome guest of humbler house- 
holds, and the choicest companion of little children. 
"John Howard blessed his loving words, and under 
their inspiration went forth to his prison journeys 
with greater heart than ever. Bishop Lowth sat 
at his feet, and hoped he might be found there in 
another world; and Alexander Knox kindled into 
raptures as he recalled the fine old man with a 

*" Wesley and His Times," by Rev. W. M. Punshon. 



380 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

child's heart and a seraphic face, realizing his own 
idea of angelic goodness."* 

He pursued his apostolic toils till the 2d of March, 
1791, when, having served his generation by the will 
of God, he passed to his reward, leaving a reformed 
nation and a nourishing Church — numbering more 
than a hundred and fifty thousand members, five 
hundred and fifty ministers, and thousands of local 
preachers — as his best and most enduring monument. 
" 1 consider him," wrote Southey to Wilberforce, 
"as the most influential mind of the last century; 
the man who will have produced the greatest effects 
centuries or perhaps millenniums hence, if the present 
race of men should continue so long." The leaven 
of his labors is still working in the world. During 
the seventy-two years since his death, hundreds of 
thousands have been converted and translated to 
heaven through the instrumentality of the Com- 
munity which he formed; and at the present moment 
there are not less than three millions of Methodists, 
associated with the parent society and its various 
offshoots, who reverence his memory, and rejoice in 
their connection with his name. 

Between John Wesley and his sister Martha, who 
next claims our attention, there was a very remark- 
able resemblance. Their stature, form, and coun- 
tenance were so much alike that Doctor Clarke, 
who knew them both well, declared, had they been 
dressed in similar attire, he could not have distin- 

* " Wesley and His Times/' by Rev. W. M. Punshon. 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 381 

guished the one from the other. Like her brother, 
she also reflected deeply on every subject, controlled 
every appetite and passion with rigid exactness, and 
felt herself answerable to her reason for every thing 
she did. Even their handwriting was so much alike 
that the one might be easily mistaken for the other. 
Their mutual affection was exceedingly strong. Patty's 
love for her brother seemed to be innate rather than 
acquired. When a helpless infant, "afflicted and 
moaning with pain, the sight of this beloved brother 
immediately calmed and cheered her, causing her to 
forget her sufferings." 

She was distinguished for deep thoughtfulness, 
grave deportment, and an evenness of temper which 
nothing could ruffle. By all kinds of witty mischief 
her more lively companions sought to disturb her 
gravity and excite her temper; but she opposed all 
their jests and playful tricks with solid arguments. 
When her abhorrence of satire, which the rest of the 
children had at ready command, provoked its attacks 
in many a stinging epigram, she calmly reasoned 
about its moral evils, and always contended that 
ridicule never cured any vice. Her mother, entering 
the nursery one day, and finding it a scene of noise 
and frolic during play hours, pleasantly observed, 
"You will all be more serious one day." Patty, 
calm amid the tempest, looked up from her retired 
corner and said, "Shall I be more serious, mother?" 
an appeal which instantly drew forth a negative 
response. She regarded herself as the only one of 



382 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

the family who was destitute of wit; and her brother 
Charles used to say, " Sister Patty was always too 
wise to be witty." 

She grew up a thoroughly-intellectual and accom- 
plished woman. With a clear perception and con- 
siderable logical power was combined an incompa- 
rable memory, which became a repository of the 
most striking events in the history of the past; and 
she could also repeat the greater part of the best 
English poets with perfect accuracy. She delighted 
in literary conversation, theological discussion, and 
argumentation on moral and metaphysical questions, 
in which she displayed great acuteness, and the 
results of careful and extensive reading. Even Dr. 
Johnson valued her conversation, which in many 
instances supplied the absence of books; and he 
frequently invited her to Bolt- Court that he might 
enjoy the pleasure of her society. She had, however, 
a natural horror of all melancholy topics. Persons 
who could delight to see or hear details of misery 
which they could not relieve, or descriptions of 
cruelty which they could not punish, she regarded 
as destitute of all real feeling. She hardly ever 
spoke of death. "It was heaven, the society of the 
blessed, and the deliverance of the happy spirit from 
this tabernacle of -clay on which she delighted to 
dwell, rather than on the pang of separation, of 
which she always expressed considerable fear." She 
objected strongly to those expressions in one of her 
brother's hymns which represent a corpse as having 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 383 

a "lovely appearance," and being one of the fairest 
earthly sights. She could not bear to look upon a 
dead body, because she said "it was beholding sin 
sitting upon his throne." All her movements were 
deliberate and steady. There was an innate dignity 
and grace in her eye, her step, her speech; yet all 
this was blended with so much gentleness and good 
nature that it excited uniform reverence and respect. 
There was a philosophic calmness which never for- 
sook her, even in the hour of danger to life and 
limb. Her charity was large, and always ready for 
every case of distress. Her brother Charles used to 
say, "It is in vain to give Pat any thing to add to 
her own comforts, for she always gives it away to 
some person poorer than herself." 

Yet with all poor Martha's fine and noble qualities, 
in some of which she so much resembles her mother, 
her married life was more unhappy than even that of 
any of her sisters. While residing with her uncle in 
London, a young gentleman named Hall, one of John 
Wesley's pupils at Oxford, solicited her hand. He 
was a man of agreeable manners, good education, 
competent means, and appeared to be deeply relig- 
ious. She accepted his proposals, and he solemnly 
betrothed her to himself, without the knowledge of 
her relatives. When, however, he visited Epworth in 
company with her brothers, he became enamored of 
her younger sister, won her affections, and promised 
her marriage. But no sooner was he back in London 
than he made arrangements to fulfill his pbdge to 



384 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

Martha. The family, ignorant of any prior engage- 
ment with the elder sister, were astonished at this 
shameful conduct. Hall endeavored to justify him- 
self by some wild talk about visions and revelations 
of the Divine will. The marriage took place, and for 
some years the young clergyman and his wife lived 
happily together. Their house afforded an agreeable 
home to Mrs. Wesley during many months of her 
widowhood, and they treated her with the greatest 
kindness. 

But Martha's husband was unstable as water; and 
when he once began to change, his downward course 
was swift and awful. He became a quietist, disre- 
garding the appointed ordinances of religion ; a prac- 
tical antinomian ; a deist, if not an atheist ; and, 
finally, a polygamist, and illustrated his creed by his 
practice. The heart sickens at the records of his 
fearful immoralities, and we will not inflict upon our- 
selves or our readers the pain of a circumstantial 
detail. He lived on in his career of crime — often 
away from his wife and family months, and even 
years together — till the end drew near. "I came" 
to Bristol, says John Wesley, "just time enough, not 
to see, but to bury, poor Mr. Hall, my brother-in-law, 
who died on Wednesday morning, January the 6th, 
1776, I trust in peace ; for God had given him 
deep repentance. Such another monument of Divine 
mercy, considering how low he had fallen, and from 
what hights of holiness, I have not seen, no, not in 
seventy years. I had designed to have visited him 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 385 

in the morning ; but he did not stay for my coming. 
It is enough if, after all his wanderings, we meet 
again in Abraham's bosom." 

The heavy sorrows incident to the faithful wife of 
such a man, Mrs. Hall bore with exemplary patience 
and fortitude. Believing that the Scriptures forbade 
her to dispute the authority of her husband, she 
submitted without a murmur to the most grievous 
wrongs, declaring that she "acted as a Christian, not 
as a woman." Certainly nothing but religion could 
have sustained her under provocations so great. Like 
her mother, she kept an occasional diary, in which 
she recorded her spiritual experience ; and one or two 
passages will show the real source of her strength, 
and the genuineness of her piety. " I have dedicated 
myself anew to thee, my God," she writes in 1734. 
"I have given thee my soul and body. claim me 
for thine own ! let none take me again out of 
thine hand. I have resolved to make my conversa- 
tion more useful, at least to endeavor it; to avoid all 
fierceness, and uncharitable truths. I have resolved, 
likewise, to spend some time in meditating on what I 
read." Again, in 1740, when she seems to have un- 
derstood more clearly the way of a sinner's accept- 
ance with God, she observes : " How many resolu- 
tions have I made, and how poorly kept them ; which 
was indeed no wonder, for I knew not that thou, 
my Savior, wouldst justify the ungodly! 0, blessed 
love ! that nothing but misery and vileness should 

recommend us to thy mercy! With all my soul I 
33 



386 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

believe and embrace this blessed truth. I come vile 
and ungodly, pleading nothing but the promise; but 
thou hast died that I might live forever ! Amen ! 
' Lord, I believe ; help thou my unbelief 1' " 

Four years later there is the following passage, 
which contains evident allusion to the crisis in her 
spiritual history indicated in the last quotation : " Of 
what infinite importance it is for every Christian to 
be continually watching ; praying against a Laodicean 
state ! What infinite mercy has the blessed Savior 
shown to me ! How gently has he called me, when , 
I slumbered and slept ! It is now about four years 
since I had such a sense of the remission of sins as 
delivered me from all fear. I believed, in a little 
measure, on the Lord Jesus. He gave me to believe 
that because he lived, I should live also. He came 
that his sheep might have life, and that they might 
have it more abundantly. Since I received this 
blessed sense first, I never had any painful fear of 
my state ; nor yet any doubt that I had deceived my- 
self, except for a few moments, even though * 

never believed my testimony; never that I know of, 
in any degree strengthened my hands in God. Yet, 
notwithstanding this great goodness of my blessed 
Redeemer, I insensibly grew lukewarm. I did not 
earnestly cry for the second gift, as I had for the 
first. But He that had begun his work would not 
leave it unfinished. All love, all glory be unto thee, 
my blessed Redeemer, forever. Amen. Halleluiah! 

* The allusion is probably to her husband. 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 387 

Near a year ago, I was one evening retired into my 
chamber, with a design to spend some time in private 
prayer ; but before I kneeled down, all at once, with- 
out a thought of mine, I had a full, clear sense that 
the Lamb of God had made an atonement for me ; 
that he had made full satisfaction for my sins; so 
that, were he that moment to appear to judgment, I 
could stand before him. I saw, I felt — for I know 
not any better words to use — that the justice of the 
Almighty Father was satisfied, and that I could even 
appeal to it ! For I could say, '.There is my Surety ! 
He hath paid my whole debt !' Halleluiah !" 

In the possession of this blessed experience she 
lived to the end of life. Though she had such a 
natural aversion to conversing on melancholy sub- 
jects, she spoke of her own death with the utmost 
serenity. A little before her removal she called her 
niece to her bedside and said : " I have now a sensa- 
tion that convinces me my departure is near. The 
heart-strings seem gently, but entirely loosened." 
When asked if she had any pain, she replied : " No ; 
but a new feeling." Just before she closed her eyes, 
she pressed the hand of her niece with tenderest af- 
fection, and said : "I have the assurance which I 
have long prayed for. Shout !" The next moment 
all was still. Her happy soul passed to its rest on 
the 12th of July, 1791, in the eighty-fifth year of her 
age. She was the last survivor of the Epworth fam- 
ily. She died four months and nine days after her 
brother John ; and her remains are interred in the 



o^ THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEY5. 

same tomb. They " were lovely and pleasant in their 
lives, and in their death they were not divided.' 3 

It can not be expected that we shonld attempt 
any thing more than the briefest notice of Charles, 
Mrs. Wesley's yonngest son, and the hymnist of the 
Methodist Churches. Born prematurely on the 18th 
of December, 1708, the utmost care was required to 
preserve him alive. After passing through the same 
home-training as his brothers he went to Westminster, 
where he wa3 lively and somewhat daring, but not 
inattentive to hi3 studies. At the age of eighteen 
he was elected a scholar of Christ Church, Oxford. 
For some time he was careless about his spiritual 
interests ; but at length an important change came. 
Writing to his brother John he says: "It is owing, 
in a great measure, to somebody's prayers — my 
mother's most likely — that I am come to think as I 
do; for I can not tell myself how or when I woke 
out of my lethargy, only that it was not long after 
you went away." 7 The change soon manifested itself 
in a weekly attendance at the Lord's Supper, a more 
strict course of conduct, and the commencement of 
zealous efforts to do good, which brought upon him- 
self and hi3 companions no small persecution, and 
won for them the title of Methodists. 

For the details relating to his mission and com- 
plicated trials in Georgia; the joyous reception of 
conscious salvation on the 21st of May, 1738; hLs 
earnest efforts to bring his friends into the enjoyment 
of the same grace; the itinerant journeys which he 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 389 

took in preaching the Gospel; the success of his 
ministry in the conversion of souls; his marriage 
and happy domestic life ; and various other important 
facts in his history — recourse must be had to Lis 
biographies and his own journals. For ten years 
before his death he was very infirm. Early in 1788 
he was almost entirely confined to the house, and 
the time drew near that he must die. "He had 
no transports of joy, but solid hope, and unshaken 
confidence in Christ, which kept his mind in perfect 
peace." Two days before his departure, after an 
interval of silence, he called his wife to the bedside 
and dictated the following lines — his last contribution 
to that rich heritage of sacred verse which he has 
left as a priceless legacy to the Church and the 
world : 

"In age and feebleness extreme, 
Who shall a helpless worm redeem? 
Jesus, my only hope thou art, 
Strength of my failing flesh and heart; 
0, could I catch one smile from thee, 
And drop into eternity I" 

Nature's powers were now exhausted, and on the 
29th of March, 1788, "the wheels of weary life at 
last stood still." He was buried in the Marylebone 
church-yard, where a beautiful monument, erected at 
the expense of the Wesleyan Conference, covers his 
grave. 

Long as the English language remains, and true 
spiritual religion continues to be enjoyed, the name of 
Charles Wesley will be fragrant among the Churches 



390 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

of the Lord Jesus Christ. His noble hymns, num- 
bering several thousands, give expression to all the 
hights and depths of feeling proper to the spiritual 
life. Christian experience — through all the gradations 
of doubt, fear, desire, faith, and hope, to all the 
transports of perfect love in the very beams of the 
beatific vision — Christian experience furnishes him 
■with everlasting and inexhaustible themes, "which 
he has illustrated with an affluence of diction and 
splendor of coloring rarely, if ever,' surpassed. He 
has invested these themes "with a power of truth 
and pathos which endears them to the imagination 
and affections — which makes feeling conviction, and 
carries the understanding captive by the decisions 
of the heart. These sacred lyrics have been trans- 
lated into many languages of the earth, and are 
heard wherever Christian congregations assemble for 
worship. They are " sung now," says the author 
of "The Christian Life in Song," "in collieries and 
copper-mines. How many has their heavenly music 
strengthened to meet death in the dark coal-pits! 
On how many dying hearts have they come back, 
as from a mother's lips, on the battle-field! On 
how many death-beds have they been chanted by 
trembling voices, and listened to with joy unspeak- 
able ! How many have they supplied with prayer 
and praise, from the first thrill of spiritual fear to 
the last rapture of heavenly hope ! They echo along 
the Cornish moors as the corpse of the tin-miner is 
borne to his last resting-place ; they cheer with 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 391 

heavenly messages the hard bondage of slavery; 
they have been the first words of thanksgiving on 
the lips of the liberated negroes; they have given 
courage to brave men and patience to suffering 
women; they have been a liturgy engraven on the 
hearts of the poor; they have borne the name of 
Jesus far and wide, and have helped to write it in 
countless hearts." 

We must now direct attention to the last of this 
family group. Kezia, Mrs. Wesley's youngest child, 
was born about March, 1710. Probably through the 
influence of her eldest sister, then the head teacher 
in the establishment, she obtained a situation in a 
Lincoln boarding-school when she was about eighteen. 
Half pupil and half assistant, she boarded free, and 
received instruction in some branches of learning as 
remuneration for her services. In 1730 she left "for 
want of money" to procure the clothes necessary 
for her position. Yet, like many other people, she 
contrived to find the means for imitating her venerable 
sire's bad habit of taking snuff, from which Charles 
bribed her to abstain, at least for a time. "Pray 
desire brother Charles," she writes, "to bring Prior, 
the second part, when he comes, or send it according 
to promise, for leaving off snuff till next May, or 
else I shall think myself at liberty to take as soon 
as I please." 

The natural shyness of her disposition made her 
shrink from company and from strangers. Her mind 
was painfully anxious for improvement, but a feeble 



392 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

constitution and almost uninterrupted illness rendered 
her incapable of close mental application. At Lincoln, 
where she had better health and more time for study, 
she was destitute of books. Nelson's "Manual of 
Devotion" and "The Whole Duty of Man" formed 
her entire library, "without so much as one book in 
history or poetry." Her brother John, who took 
great interest in her, did his best to supply this 
deficiency, and many times gave her suitable advice. 
Moving along the path of life under the constant 
impression that she would die young, her mind was 
ever meditating upon her latter end. "There is no 
danger," she writes, " of any one's being fit for 
death too soon, it being a sufficient work for a whole 
life. Certainly I shall not think any pains too great 
to use that will be any help to me in so great a 
work; and it would be less excusable for me to be 
unprepared than others, because it always was and 
is my persuasion that I shall die young. I am at 
present fearful of death; but I hope it will please 
God to make me willing and ready to die before he 
calls me out of the world. 

1 None know what death is but the dead ; 

Therefore we all by nature dying dread, 

As a strange doubtful path we know not how to tread.' *' 

These feelings, in connection with a less sanguine 
temperament, probably caused that indifference to all 
things earthly which formed so remarkable a feature 
in her character. When her friends pressed her to 
marry, and her favorite brother urged her to accept 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 393 

the attentions of one who had his mind drawn toward 
her, she replied : " If I were inclined to enter into 
the holy estate of matrimony, I can 't say but the 
man you are acquainted with might be worthy of 
love. 

'But to a soul whose marble form 
None of the melting passions warm/ 

all his good qualities would appear lighter than vanity 
itself. It is my humble opinion I shall live the life 
of a nun, for which reason I would not give one 
single farthing to see him this minute." When what 
was considered an eligible offer presented itself, she 
also observes : "I am entirely of your opinion that 
we ought to endeavor after perfect resignation; and 
I have learned to practice this duty in one particular, 
which I think is of the greatest importance in life — 
namely, marriage. I am as indifferent as it is lawful 
for any person to be whether I change my state or 
not; because I think a single life is the more ex- 
cellent way; and there are also several reasons why 
I rather desire to continue as I am. One is because 
I desire to be entirely disengaged from the world ; 
but the chief is, I am so well apprised of the great 
duty a wife owes to her husband that I think it is 
impossible she should ever discharge it as she ought. 
But I can scarce say I have the liberty of choosing; 
for my relations are continually soliciting me to 
marry. I shall endeavor to be as resigned and 
cheerful as possible to whatever God is pleased to 
ordain for me." And when the perfidious Hall, 



394 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

concerning whose offer this very paragraph was 
written, so basely deserted her after gaining her 
consent, her " perfect resignation," tested to the 
severest possible degree, enabled her to bear the 
blow with meek and unruffled fortitude. She freely 
forgave him the wrong, and even resided for some 
time with him and her sister after their marriage. 

We can not accurately trace her subsequent move- 
ments. Her brother Samuel offered her a home at 
Tiverton, if John would pay for her board ; but the 
offer was not accepted. After leaving the Halls at 
Wootton, she lived for a time among friends in Lon- 
don, and probably also with the venerable clergyman 
of Bexley, who, according to Charles, "agreed to 
board my sister Kezzy." She was supported by the 
kindness and liberality of her brothers, till her death 
in the Spring of 1741. 

From her childhood, Kezzy was particularly atten- 
tive to the duties of religion, and her disposition was 
eminently serious. But it was not till she came under 
the evangelical preaching of her brothers, that she 
experienced the inward and abounding joy arising 
from a knowledge of personal acceptance with God. 
Charles paid special attention to her spiritual condi- 
tion, and the record of some of their interviews is 
deeply impressive. " Calling accidentally in the even- 
ing at my sister Kezia's room, she fell upon my neck, 
and in a flood of tears begged me to pray for her. 
Seeing her so softened, I did not know but this might 
be her time, and sat down. She anticipated me, by 



SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 395 

saying she had felt here what she never felt before, 
and believed now there was such a thing as the new 
creature. She was full of earnest wishes for Divine 
love; owned there was a depth in religion she had 
never fathomed; that she was not, but longed to be, 
converted ; would give up all to obtain the love of 
God ; renewed her request with great vehemence that 
I would pray for her; often repeating, 'I am weak, 
I am exceeding weak!' I prayed over her, and 
blessed God from my heart; then used Pascal's 
prayer for conversion, with which she was much 
affected, and begged me to write it out for her." 
While he read " Law's account of Redemption, she 
was greatly moved, full of tears and sighs, and eager- 
ness for more." She continued in the same temper; 
" convinced that all her misery had proceeded from 
her not loving God;" continually calling upon her 
friends to pray with her ; " still pressing forward ;" 
and receiving the Lord's Supper almost daily from 
the hands of her brother. 

Alas, Charles Wesley himself was not fully instructed 
on the doctrine of simple trust in the atonement of 
Christ, as the only effectual cure for those terrible 
conflicts and sorrows through which his amiable and 
penitent sister was now passing! He had been the 
means of producing in her heart a terrible "con- 
science of sin ;" but he knew not the plain and simple 
method of deliverance. A few months afterward he 
was taught the way of the Lord more perfectly, and 
out of the fullness of his own experience he " spoke 



396 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

fully und plainly to Kezzy." She regarded his doc- 
trine of salvation by faith only, as enthusiastic and 
contrary to her experience. " My sister would not 
give up her pretensions to faith ; told me, half angry, 
' Well, you will know in the next world, whether I 
have faith or no!' I asked her," continues Charles, 
" * Will you, then, discharge me, in the sight of God, 
from speaking to you again ? If you will, I promise 
never more to open my mouth till we meet in eter- 
nity.' She burst into tears, fell on my neck, and 
melted me into fervent prayer for her." 

The struggle ended in a full recognition of the 
doctrine of faith, and the reception of a conscious 
deliverance from the sins which had so much dis- 
tressed her. The time and surrounding circum- 
stances of her triumph, as well as her subsequent 
religious experience, are hidden from our view. But 
the record of her last moments, noticed in an earlier 
chapter, speaks of her readiness for another and a 
higher rest. " Yesterday," writes her brother Charles 
on the 9th of March, 1741, " sister Kezzy died in the 
Lord Jesus. He finished his work and cut it short 
in mercy." 

In concluding these brief sketches of the sons and 
daughters of the Wesley Family, we are tempted to 
ask — What might these children have become without 
the counsel and example, the care, instruction, and 
piety of their parents? Had Mrs. Wesley and her 
husband, like many other heads of families, remained 






SONS AND DAUGHTERS. 397 

destitute of religion, who can imagine the all but in- 
evitable consequences to their family and the world? 
In all probability their children would have grown up 
ignorant of experimental godliness ; and though some 
of them might have risen to eminence in learning and 
worldly station, they could never have benefited the 
human race to any great extent ; and their name, like 
that of many other respectable households of their 
day, would soon have been written in the dust. But 
now, is not that name more widely known and heart- 
ily reverenced than the name of any other human 
being? And since the days of Abraham and Sarah, 
and Joseph and Mary of Nazareth, has there ever 
been a family to which the human race is more deeply 
indebted ? 

It is a solemn truth and well deserves the attention 
of those whom it concerns, that parental influence 
can not be ignored. For good or for evil, it is ever 
working ; and, to a large extent, it forms the character, 
and shapes the destiny of the children. Subtile and 
imperceptible it may be ; but it is not the less potent 
or real. "As from the eyes of some individuals and 
the tongues of others, there issues an evil influence ; 
as between the vital spirits of friends and relatives 
there is a cognation, and they refresh each other like 
social plants ; so in parents and children, there is so 
great a society of nature and manners, of blessing 
and cursing, that an evil parent can not perish in a 
single death ; neither can holy and consistent parents 
eat their meal of blessing alone; but they make the 



398 THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

room shine like the fire of a holy sacrifice."* And 
that sacred flame shall not go out when the years of 
their own pilgrimage are ended. The children who 
gathered around it in the days of their fathers, and 
caught their first religious glow from its Heaven- 
kindled heat, shall guard and feed it in generations 
to come ; and children's children shall walk in its 
light and rejoice in its genial warmth. A good man, 
though poor as Lazarus himself, leaves a priceless 
patrimony to his children. For "the mercy of the 
Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them 
that fear Him, and his righteousness unto children's 
children ; to such as keep his covenant, and to those 
that remember his commandments to do them." 0, 
then, let the light of parental piety be like the do- 
mestic lamp placed on the lamp-stand, that it may 
give light to all who are in the house. Then will the 
blessed promise be fulfilled : " I will pour water upon 
him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground; 
I will pour my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing 
upon thine offspring; and they shall spring up as 
among the grass, as willows by the watercourses. 
One shall say, I am the Lord's ; and another shall 
call himself by the name of Jacob ; and another shall 
subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and surname 
himself by the name of Israel." 

* Jeremy Taylor. 



MAR 1H949 



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